


Heavy and light

by J_Antebellum



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, PTSD, USWNT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:39:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Antebellum/pseuds/J_Antebellum
Summary: Ashlyn and Ali are a happy marriage with a little son a few years after marrying. They've got everything they could possibly want and are living a gleeful life until Ali gets assaulted, which would lead them into a dark path they never thought they'd have to face. But with heavy hearts, they'll have to find the light at the end of the tunnel.





	1. A million dreams

**Chapter 1:** A million dreams.

February had never felt so sweet before. As little Aiden Kyle reached his six months milestone, sleeping had become a bit more of an easy task, although they weren't getting too excited too fast. It was 2022, and a lot of things had changed since the Krashlyn wedding three years and two months previously. To begin with, they had won two NWSL Championships, one in 2019 and another in 2020, most recently, and gone were the days were they would be any lower than third in rank. They had also won together the 2019 Women's World Cup, and the 2020 Olympics, after which Ali had retired from the National Team, to begin the process of having a child, which, after a lot of hard work, had finally happened on August 17th 2021, after one failed reciprocal IVF attempt, but successful at the second.

Nearing the thirty-eight, Ali wasn't showing any signs of retiring just yet, although she had Ali Krieger Football Camps with relative frequency, and also went to coaching training as much as she could, plus sometimes modelling or, more as a hobby, being a commentator for games in which she didn't play. Becky Sauerbrunn, Carli Lloyd and Megan Rapinoe had also left the national team at different moments during the last year, as they were barely being called-up anyway, with the team renovating in age. Since Jill Ellis had been fired in 2019 because, despite winning, the team was struggling a hell of a lot with her strategies (or multiple changes of them) and the players were complaining, and Pia Sundhage came back, which the team was grateful for. Then, they had won all they had won, and in a funny twist of circumstances, after many years of Alyssa Naeher being the preferred keeper, Pia had decided to see how they did with giving Ashlyn more chances, and it turned out that with the team renovating so much and so many newer, less experienced players, her style saved the day quite a lot, so she remained the starting keeper, although without monopolizing the position as much as other keepers in the past had. She started in about 70% of the games, split games with Alyssa about 15% of the time, and the rest it was all Alyssa, and was just about to celebrate her 100th USWNT cap.

They could say life was starting to grin big at them. Although that was a bit hard to think when your six-months-old son started screaming bloody murder at three in the morning.

“Oh, no,” Ashlyn murmured, her eyes closed and her face pressed against her pillow. “Tell me it's not Aiden.”

“Do we have another kid I'm not aware of?” Ali said sleepily with her face against her back. The goalkeeper puffed.

“I don't feel great, you go.”

“I was his sole caretaker for nine months, you owe me.”

Ashlyn groaned and stood up from bed. She had a slight headache and her eyes felt itchy, but her son was calling and someone had to answer. She didn't resent Ali; poor thing had had a rough pregnancy, when she had gotten nauseas well into the second trimester and all the pregnancy symptoms had been pretty intense, and then she was doing a ton of things every day, not to mention being alone with their boy every time Ashlyn had international camp. They were lucky that the next evening's game was there in Orlando, and it was just a friendly against Sweden, so Ashlyn got to stay home and help with Aiden, but until then Ali had already been solo for almost a week. It wasn't like Aiden was a hard kid, but he was a six-month-old baby who breastfeed and who had mastered the rolling over quite too fast.

“Hi there, buddy,” Ashlyn entered the shark-themed baby room and leaned over the white crib, finding their son all red from crying, “woah, you're pretty upset, uh? Why's that? You missed Mummy?” Ashlyn picked him up carefully and brought him to her chest. He immediately calmed down a bit, but he was still noticeably upset. Since his diaper felt clean, she kept hugging him close and went to warm a baby bottle of Ali's milk just for him.

The boy drank about half of it before he looked about to fall asleep, so she helped him burp and then held him close, walking around the living room while bouncing him softly to put him to sleep. Her headache had only worsened, but she still wouldn't change this for the world. She loved their little family, and loved being exhausted for reasons entirely unrelated to sports. Then, Ali appeared, her bun a dark mess and her expression of tiredness.

“What's wrong with him?” she asked her with motherly worried. That was the thing about Ali; she might be too tired to react at one point, but her brain would continue to think about the matter until she finally got up from bed. She was quick to come closer now, caressing Aiden's light brown wavy hair. It had been completely blonde at birth, but now, like it had happened to Ashlyn, it was turning progressively darker.

“Nothing, he was just hungry,” Ashlyn answered.

“I swear if he had teeth for it, he'd be eating entire hamburgers by now,” Ali snorted a laugh and tiptoed to kiss the top of his head. “Come to bed? We can make space for him between us, he probably just misses you.”

“Okay,” Ashlyn leaned to kiss her wife and followed her to the bed.

With Aiden on his back sleeping between them, the mothers rolled to face him and one another, more than ready to fall back asleep. In a bit over ten hours, Ashlyn had a game, so she better rest now, and Ali knew, which was why she started caressing her cheek and hair over their baby, until she was snoring softly.

In the morning, Ali was predictably already cooking breakfast for herself and Ashlyn, following their respective high carbs diets, with their son wide awake and sitting against her hip.

“You're bloody magic,” Ashlyn said smiling as she looked at them. “Look at you conquering early mornings.”

“We're a fine team,” Ali grinned, kissing her softly before looking as she kissed their son, whose round face quickly looked forward to morning kisses. He was already an affectionate child, and was soon stretching towards his Mummy for her to grab him. “Is this enough food or are you hungrier this morning?”

“Actually, there may be leftovers. My stomach feels a little tender today.” Ashlyn commented as she feed their dog-horse Logan, who was already sitting patiently by her bowl giving her hungry baby eyes.

“How come?” Ali looked at her concerned. Ashlyn wasn't one to get sick often. As a matter of fact, neither of them really ever got sick, except for the occasional cold in the winter, to which the Southerner was more prone to.

“I think it's just excitement. Third game with Captain's armband, my hundredth cap, all my friends and family there...” Ashlyn couldn't help smiling. “I must be feeling rookie's butterflies.” Ali grinned at her.

“I couldn't be prouder of you.”

“You'll show me when we're in private and full of energy, I'm sure.” Ali laughed.

“As if we'll ever be full of energy again!”

Even though they were both quite the superstitious people when it came to game days, following strict routines and in Ashlyn's case, close to OCD, as she really got obsessed about her routines, Aiden's arrival had changed it all. Now there weren't two game-days that were the same, and even though at first this had been distressing and nerve-wrecking, by now they were used to it, or at least Ashlyn was, because Ali hadn't yet returned to soccer since giving birth. Partially because she had asked for maternity leave, which Ashlyn had only taken for the remaining month and a half before the off season the year before, and partially because her body wasn't ready yet.

“I'll never get tired of watching you breastfeed,” Ashlyn said after eating breakfast, as the brunette leaned back with their son sitting on her lap, breastfeeding. “Sweetest thing I've ever seen.” She added, in awe. Ali's lips curved into a soft smile.

“As much as I love seeing you drool about us, you need to get that pretty butt to the shower and get ready for the day. We have to pick-up my family at the airport, and yours should be coming any minute as well, so we'll have to divide.”

“I can stay home with Aiden while you drive to the airport? Get the house ready and all.”

“Okay, how's your stomach, Babe?”

“Uhm...” Ashlyn, who had left half her plate untouched, patted her belly a little. “Still a bit sensitive. Hopefully it'll pass soon, it's just the excitement and the nerves, and that's always good. So who confirmed they're coming in the end?”

“Mum, Kyle,” Ali counted with her fingers. Since Ashlyn had been out, she had been the one to organize having their people over for Ashlyn's big day. “Your parents, Chris, his girlfriend, your uncle and aunt, your cousins with Lauren and Brittany, Jenson and Raya... it's going to be a ton of people. And then of course our friends, Liz said she'd come and then from soccer we have Hao with her husband, Whit, Pinoe and Sue, Becky, and also Abby and her wife, since they're close in Naples. Besides, everyone wants to see the US beat Sweden after they won the last friendly last year.” Ashlyn's beloved Nana had died two months prior, with that being the only cause of her absence.

Ashlyn frowned.

“That's an exaggerated amount of people, although at least we know the stadium will be packed. Did you get one of the suites?”

“Yeah, the biggest one. Don't worry, we also got the first row of seats nearest to the suite, so we can always spread a little. But it'll be better for Aiden, less noise. I got him some protective headphones just in case.”

“You're such a soccer Mum, you're in everything,” Ashlyn leaned to kiss her sweetly. “Okay, I'll shower!”

Three hours later, their house was full with family members and Liz Clabaugh, the oldest of Ashlyn's friends. The rest, they'd meet at the stadium. Ali and Ashlyn were dying to see their retired friends, who they barely saw, and Ali was excited about seeing the team as well. Most of their friends were yet to meet baby Aiden, so that was also a reason to be excited, happy and dying for the moment to come. After a garden lunch, Ashlyn had just enough time for a quick nap with Aiden, brushing her teeth, packing her bag for the umpteenth time and making sure everything was ready before hugging everyone, kissing Ali and leaving.

Because the 100th cap ceremony included the family, Ali, Aiden and the in-laws went down to the field shortly after arriving at the stadium, after greeting their friends, while the others remained in the suite. Because the suite had two doors, one into the stadium and another into the stands, they could go out to the stands and sit or not at any point. Ali had dressed with one of Ashlyn's jerseys, and because Aiden was still so tiny that the smallest jersey size available in the store was still too big, she simply put on him a cool t-shirt with a slogan saying 'There's no Keeper like mine' with a number 24 and the USWNT colours, the name 'Krieger-Harris' on the back, and also put on him the smallest 24 USWNT shorts she could find, that although were still a big big on him, weren't as dangerous as putting on him a big shirt with which he could choke. With that, she considered their son was ready to celebrate.

This was Aiden's first USWNT game, because the noise in them was such that they preferred to wait until he was older, so it wasn't odd to see his eyes widening as they entered the field, with him sitting against Ali's hip, and he got to hear the roaring stadium, since Ali wasn't putting on the headphones yet, to see if he acclimatized a little.

“Look at that impressed face,” Chris chuckled at his nephew, pinching his cheek softly.

“Look, Aiden, there's Mummy!” Ali pointed as the music that always gave her the biggest thrill started sounding and the teams came into the field, with Ashlyn wearing the Captain's armband and the huggest smile. Since Becky, Carli and Pinoe had retired from national duty, the new captains had been Ashlyn, Alex and Christen, so the image wasn't so new, yet it felt like new. Ali grinned big cheering for her wife and managing to clap while holding the boy, feeling insanely proud, so much she might cry. Her own 100th cap had come shortly before the last World Cup, and just being able to kiss Ashlyn in public for the first time was a memory she wouldn't forget. “Are you so proud of Mummy, sweet boy?” Ali smiled kissing Aiden's cheek with teary eyes, while the boy looked at Ashlyn with deep confusion.

Ever professional, Ashlyn, whose eyes were a little glassy, stood on the field giving high-tens to all her teammates before grinning big at Ali and winking across the field. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment while the commentator listed her successes, then looking at the roaring stadium and beaming, feeling so happy and so proud with herself. She wore her dark brown hair with blonde highlights short but long enough for some waves to cover the back of her neck and to have a semi bun, and she had a long-sleeved blue jersey with shorts and long underpants, as it was a chilly day.

The stadium broke into applause as Ashlyn held the 100th cap jersey with a huge smile, and then afterwards she could pose with her family, so Ali rushed to her to kiss her and Ashlyn grabbed Aiden.

“I love this,” Ashlyn laughed at his new shirt, and also hugged her parents and brother. She managed to hold one end on the jersey with the same hand with which she held their son, and put another hand around Ali, who held the other end of the jersey and kissed her cheek while putting an arm around her. The Harrises stood around with their arms around them, and they grinned for the picture.

“We're so proud,” Tammye kissed Ashlyn's cheek before they had to leave. “Enjoy your game!”

“Thanks, Mum. See you later,” she added, handing Aiden back to Ali and kissing her cheek.

“We love you!”

“I love you both!”

Ashlyn jogged back to her team, and as her family went back to their seats upstairs, the American hymn sounded in the stadium and the game began.

It was one of those games filled with action and adrenaline, that had them jumping off their seats and gracing their fans with multiple IG photographs and videos, such as when Aiden fell asleep drooling on Ali's shoulder in the twenty-fifth minute, while she was on the verge of her seat all hyped with the game, and Kyle took a small video of it. Ever since the team became full of youngsters, Ashlyn had to make almost as many saves per game as she had in the Pride, so they were in for a lot of action, although no ball came through.

“What a shark, what a shark!” Rapinoe grinned as they watched on the suite's screen a repetition of the last save Ashlyn had done, a huge jump forward to catch a dangerous ball in the air. “She should do basketball whenever she retires.” Ali chuckled, nodding full of pride.

“Can't believe the baby's missing his Mummy's sick saves though,” Abby smiled caressing the boy's hair as he slept. “I know those dimples!”

“From Grandpa to Mummy and him,” Ali said cheerfully. “Oh, look, another!”

Sure enough, Ashlyn had to make two saves one right after the other, as her goalposts were suddenly full of people. They laughed seeing a close-up of Ashlyn angry as fuck shouting at her defence, and soon, Alex and Crystal had teamed-up to score a goal. By the seventy minute, they were up 4-0 against Sweden, so the game was pretty much won already, although they knew Ashlyn would be shouting at the team to keep playing as if they were down 0-4 and this was a World Cup. Friendlies didn't make her any less competitive, and Ali had to admit she found her tremendously sexy when she was like that. After all, this was Ashlyn's dream and nothing made her sexier than being happy like that.

  
  


 


	2. Uh-oh

**Chapter 2: Uh-oh.**

The celebration that followed the game was epic. All the friends and family went out, Ashlyn was feeling much better than in the morning, and her career was honoured and celebrated during days and days until everyone started heading home and suddenly Ali and Ashlyn found themselves alone with their little boy and their little girl in their house. The home they have created for their Krieger-Harris family. They were content there, happy, blissful even, and one of the reasons was that when you've gone through so much hardship in life, you become twice as grateful for every little thing. For them, it was a blessing to wake up every day next to each other, and with their two babies, happy and healthy.

With Valentine's Day coming up, Ashlyn had bought Ali a silver oval locket with the initials 'K-H' engraved in the front, their first date's day engraved in the back, and inside she had put a photograph of them in their wedding day, and another of baby Aiden. They were initially going to go on a trip, but then Ashlyn had a game two days later in Los Angeles, that now had its own women's team, and also Aiden was still too small for those long flights, so they changed plans and decided to postpone that and, instead, just have a romantic dinner home. Ashlyn would go to training, Ali would do her tasks, and then at night they'd meet, cook together with some music, have a romantic dinner, and waltz around their living room.

“Happy Valentine's Day, mein Liebe,” Ali woke her up on Valentine's morning, getting on top of her and giving her open-mouthed kisses and making-out like teenagers.

As Ashlyn came to her senses, she smiled feeling the gentle dragging of her lip between the other woman's teeth and rolled them over, making her giggle against her lips and she kissed her more intensely.

“Here's to our twelfth of many,” Ashlyn said, already letting her hands roam freely. But then, Aiden started crying in the nursery and Ali giggled as Ashlyn puffed and made a frustrating face.

“Tonight,” Ali pecked her lips. “I'll go, you better get ready for practice.”

The hardest part of the day was always leaving her family behind. Ashlyn needed at least a quarter of an hour to give a proper farewell to Logan, Aiden, and Ali, and sometimes she had been late to work because of that. They both had a long day ahead; Ashlyn was full of training, Ali had to get Logan to dog school, and leave Aiden at daycare so she could work without interruptions. He was only there for four hours a day, but that was enough time for Ali to do grocery shopping and get some work going, planning her camps and going to the gym for a few hours, trying to get her body back into shape.

And of course, during the day they'd have to brag about their love on IG. Ashlyn posted a photograph of Ali with Aiden on her lap, laughing as Logan licked the baby's feet during breakfast, captioning it with '12th Valentine's with this Queen. Here's to dozens more!' while Ali waited until her wife was in practice and their son sleeping to post one of Ashlyn asleep with their two babies and captioned it with 'With these 3, it's hard not to feel overwhelmed with love every day, so here's to celebrating us every single one and to love growing in this home as the years pass by <3 #WhenAreWeGettingAnotherBabyAsh'.

Because Ali was staying home alone with their six-month-old baby, Ashlyn had permission to keep her phone with one of the staff who was always around handing water bottles and all. She had it in silence but buzzing, in case that if Ali needed anything she could quickly find out and go help her. So far they had only needed it once, near the end of last season, when Ali had caught a 24h stomach bug and needed Ashlyn to come and help.

So when a few hours into training Ashlyn's goalkeeper coach called her to the sidelines, she was surprised.

“Ali?” Ashlyn asked, seeing him holding her phone out and removing her gloves.

“Aiden's daycare. They say no one came to pick him up.” Ashlyn frowned and took her phone. It was almost lunch time, he should be home.

“Ashlyn Krieger-Harris,” said Ashlyn into the phone. “What's up with Aiden?”

“Hello, Mrs Krieger-Harris. Your wife told us she'd be here about half an hour ago, and she hasn't shown-up. We've called her several times both home and mobile, but she's not picking-up. Is someone else coming for him, should we have him longer?”

“That's odd,” Ashlyn said. “Something must've happened... listen, can you keep him one hour more? I'm in practice, but I'll change quickly and be right there.”

“Sure, take as long as you need and don't worry, we're happy staying with him.”

“Thank you, bye,” feeling already worried, Ashlyn phoned Ali, but got no answer, so she texted her.

' **Babe, where're you? Daycare saying no one showed up for Aiden. I'm on my way but please call me ASAP.** '

Ashlyn then ran to Coach Marc Skinner, who was in his fourth coaching year there.

“Hey Marc, I've got a problem, Ali's MIA for some reason and no one picked Aiden up from daycare, I've got to take him and figure out what's up with my wife.”

Marc scowled, concerned.

“Sure, call me when you know she's okay, all right?”

“Will do, thanks.” On her way to the locker room, Ashlyn texted the group 'Team K-H' where her and Ali's closest relatives where.

' **Has anyone heard a word from Ali today? She's totally MIA and I'm getting worried.** '

Her parents and her mother-in-law had just retired in the last few years, so they were the first ones to send worried texts saying they hadn't heard anything, but to let them know as soon as she was located. Her father was always more soothing and told them not to worry, that she was probably in the gym, left her phone in the locker, and didn't realize what time it was. Ashlyn preferred not to mention that she had failed to pick their baby at daycare, because she knew that'd detonate a bomb of concern.

She was in daycare as soon as possible, picking Aiden up and apologizing for the inconvenience, and then she drove to their gym and went straight to the front desk.

“Hi, excuse me, I'm looking for my wife, she was supposed to come here but she didn't show up to some important things and I'm getting worried,” Ashlyn said. “Can you check the CCTV and tell me if she's left already or something? Maybe you remember her, is this lady, Ali Krieger-Harris...” she showed a photograph from her mobile. The receptionist looked and called her partner to ask if he had seen her.

“Ali? Yes, sure, same old as always, she left at eleven to pick-up the boy, wished me a good day. Everything all right, Ash?”

“She didn't pick him up,” Ashlyn held her son in one arm. “I'm getting worried sick, I think I'm going to call the police.” The guy frowned and nodded slowly.

“I'm sorry, I hope she's okay. Let me know when you find her, okay?”

“I will, thanks.”

Back home and after also picking Logan up from her 'school', Ashlyn saw Ali's gym stuff was nowhere to be seen, nor her car, so she left Aiden with Sydney, who had just arrived from practice, and Dom Dwyer, explaining the situation, and Sydney accompanied her to the police station to report her missing. At two, they were there and told the policeman Ali had been missing for three hours.

“I know it's been very little time,” said Ashlyn, nervous. “But you don't understand, Ali's the most responsible, organized human being in the world. She would never forget our six-month-old son, she would never not pick him up, she would never go MIA this long, even less when the people at the gym told me she went to pick him up with an hour in advance, when the gym is super close to his daycare, but she's that foresighted. No one in her family knows anything about her, not even her brother, with whom she's thick as thieves and they have a daily facetime, every day for the twelve years I've been with her, but they were yet to have it today and she never showed-up. Her gym things aren't in the house either. Something has to have happened.”

“Is there any reason why she would want to go? Did she pack her things?” the policeman asked, writing down the report.

“No, we were going to have a romantic day today and everything, and the house is more or less like I left it early today. Besides, she's breastfeeding, and she has her phone beep every time breastfeeding hour comes, so she wouldn't forget that either. Her wallet is home, her credit cards... all she takes to the gym is a holdall with some clothes and water, her mobile and her car-keys, because she takes the car and after leaving our son, does grocery shopping and then gym. She's a footballer, she likes to stay in shape. And those are the only missing things.”

“All right, I'm going to call all hospitals in the area now and see if they have anyone who fits her description, in case she's had an accident, and then I'm going to call all patrols and inform of her car description in case they find it. Can you tell me those things?”

“Sure,” Ashlyn showed him pictures on the phone. “She's like five feet, six inches, she gave birth six months ago but she's already gotten quite in shape, so she's not big anymore, she's got long to the shoulders wavy dark hair, and these tiger brown eyes, and she's got tattoos, distinctive ones. She's got Liebe on her left forearm, then a giant German one on her left side, and a small Nittany Lions one on her groin. Oh, and she never wears her engagement ring to the gym, but she always wears her wedding band, white golden one. She might be wearing small earrings, I don't know, when I left this morning she was still in her pyjamas. She probably put her hair up in a bun, but may not.”

“What do you think she wore today?” Sydney asked Ashlyn, trying to help.

“I don't know... it's cold, and in cold days she always wears tight leggins, normally black, but she's got ones bright green as well, and also grey ones, purple and blue... so she's wearing one of those. And I noticed she took her Nike shoes, black ones with pink soles, they were in the entry when I left today and now they're not, so she's most likely wearing them. All her gym wear is either Orlando Pride or Nike, all of it, if that helps. And she always wears mascara. Also, her nails were black this morning, I doubt she repainted them.”

“That's very good,” the policeman encouraged, writing it all down. “And how's her car?”

“It's a white Genesis car, biggie, it has a baby seat in the middle seat in the back, I don't remember the plaque number, but she's got an Orlando Pride sticker next to a baby on board one in the back. It's an automatic car, modern.”

“Okay, wait a moment while I call, all right?”

“She'll be okay,” Sydney said taking Ashlyn's hand as they waited. “She's a tough girl, if anything happened...”

“I think she's not okay, Syd,” Ashlyn frowned. “I feel it inside, is like... anguish. I don't know.”

“Wait and see, that's all you can do.”

After a few moments, the policeman told them no one had arrived to a hospital in Orlando nor the nearest hospitals to the city that morning that fit Ali's description, but that the patrols were looking for her and her car.

“Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt her? Perhaps she received threats?”

Ashlyn gulped the knot in her throat and shook her head.

“No way,” said Ashlyn. “Ali's the loveliest person you'll know. She's always smiling big, being giving and loving and kind... everyone adores her, I'm telling you. I can't think why anyone would want to hurt her, she's nothing but sweet and attentive.”

“Okay, well, you did very well, go home, take care of your son, and I will call you the minute I know anything. If you can think of anything else you'd want to tell me, here's my number.” He handed her a paper in which he scribbled his name and number.

“Can you... check CCTV footage?” Ashlyn inquired. “Go to her gym, make sure she really left, see how she looked, see if there are cameras who saw her get in the car, perhaps see where she might've gone...”

“I will, that's a good idea.”

Even though Sydney and Dom made lunch, Ashlyn couldn't eat. She returned home with Aiden, feed him, put him for a nap, tried calling Ali again. Kyle called her, but she had nothing to say, and she simply told the family and friends through texting, that she had reported her missing to the police and to please call if they knew anything about her because she was getting very worried. Every hour that passed by was just excruciating. Her friends came to check on her and wait with her, but by dinner time, Ashlyn had no news, and called the policeman again to ask if there was anything new. He said there was people out looking, but no news yet, so she started thinking of how would she go to bed without knowing anything from Ali. She was getting so worried and anguished that she threw up out of worry, and Chris, her big brother, made the drive from Satellite Beach to stay with her until she knew anything.

When the night fell, the friends and Chris decided if she didn't come to Rome, they'd have to bring Rome to her, so they went out to look for her all over. Yet, there were no news.

Until in the middle of the night, Ashlyn's mobile rang.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> Recently, my cat, who I have had my whole life pretty much, had emergency surgery and due to reasons unknown, her recovery complicated and a few nights later she got suddenly really bad and agonised to death in my arms while we were all alone and without a possibility to get her help fast enough.
> 
> Understandably, I'm heartbroken. I've gone through many huge loses in my young life, and yet this one was even worst than parental ones, because through all of them, she was there. She was there to comfort me, for me to hug her when I had depression and cried myself to sleep for years and years, she was there through every single thing. My whole life. This is the first time I have to deal with a big loss without her constant love and support, and it's wrecking me inside out. She's left a huge hole everywhere; not being with me in bed, not waking me up in the morning, not mawling when I come home, not stealing my food and water when i sit down to eat, not accompanying me every-single-time I go to the bathroom... even looking at the corner of my bed she used to sleep on, or her box-bed, or her blanket makes me feel a punch to the chest.
> 
> I'm trying to keep writing, and I assure you I have all these chapters written, but more often than not I only feel like lying in bed moping around than like coming and updating, so I just want you to know that if I update less it's just because I'm grieving. I don't expect patience -nobody I know has really come to understand that it hurts so bloody much to lose her like I did- but I'm a very open and honest person and I thought you deserved to know the whole truth. I watched as my best friend died in my arms without being able to help her, after having already lost a good portion of my family in the recent years... it's a lot to take in. But as long as you have interest I will get my shit together, and I will update as soon as I can, I promise.


	3. The monsters in the night

**Chapter 3: The monsters in the night.**

While Uncle Chris took good care of his nephew, Ashlyn drove perhaps too fast to the hospital, where they had told her Ali was. They said she had been attacked in the street, that she wasn't in critical condition, but that she needed to come right away, to bring Ali's clothes to change into and that was all. They'd tell her more in the hospital, they said. She hung the bag of clothes from her shoulder and, heart drumming, she ran into the ER entrance. Almost immediately, a cop stopped her.

“Are you Ashlyn Krieger-Harris?” he asked her. Ashlyn nodded. “This way.”

He walked her down the corridor, towards a room whose door was glass and had an inside window, but both had blinds down. He pecked into the room and spoke with someone, and a female doctor, blonde and blue eyed, stepped out.

“Where's my wife?” Ashlyn asked right away, trying to keep her nerves at bay.

“Mrs Krieger-Harris, I'm Doctor Amanda Robbins,” they shook hands, “your wife's inside, but before you see her,” she added putting an arm out before Ashlyn went in, “we really need to talk. This way, please.”

They walked into another room, and the policeman Ashlyn had spoken to early in the day, Officer Williams, was there as well, so they also shook hands before sitting on chairs forming a circle.

“What's going on?” Ashlyn asked, getting anxious.

“Mrs... can I call you Ashlyn?” she nodded, and the officer went on. “Ashlyn, we believe your wife was assaulted as she went to pick your son up. Your wife didn't park in the gym's lot, I guess because the gym is so close to the daycare, right? She parked in a narrow street between the two buildings. We found her car, then found the window of the right side back door was cracked, it was the pavement side, and had a bit of blood,” Ashlyn's eyebrows were almost one by now, her heart drumming with anxiety. “We believe someone assaulted her as she walked by her car, probably on the way to daycare, and hit her head with the window before she could react.”

“She's got a small concussion, a cut on the forehead that we've stitched-up, and doesn't remember the moments immediately after,” the doctor intervened with a gentle voice. “We think she lost consciousness and it's how she got abducted. But she must've tried to protect herself, because she's got a broken wrist, broken cheek bone, and a split lip, and many bruises all over.”

“She was abducted? By whom?” Ashlyn gritted her teeth.

“Ray Smith, he's a fifty-three year old man, big, broad, tall, strong... and worse, he's an ex-policeman. He was fired from the police a decade ago for being too aggressive and getting drunk on the job,” Officer Williams answered. He was black, with dark eyes that looked kindly into Ashlyn's hazel ones. “His flat is in the same street, so he took her inside... we found her tied to his bed. She tried to scape so hard she has rope cuts on her wrists and dislocated a shoulder,” Ashlyn covered her mouth with a hand and clenched her other fist, her eyes filling with tears knowing what else had happened. “We also found a box full of a potent drug famously used by rapists, with syringes, one of them used. The drug makes the victim unable to make a noise or move, while they're awake and feel it all. We think she must've fought in the house, so he decided to drug her.”

“She was raped,” Ashlyn stated, her voice hoarse and shaky. “Right?” Both professionals nodded slowly, expressions sad and serious.

“Both ways,” the doctor added. “There's small tearing in both... we've already fixed it, but she's in observation for all her injuries, and she's got a broken rib and internal bruising.”

Ashlyn took a deep breath, feeling out of oxygen, and got up, walking a little to calm herself.

“We caught the guy in the act,” said the policeman then. “So he's arrested and will go down for forceful kidnapping, assault, and rape, we could even try to accuse him of attempted murder to make it worse for him. He could be killed for this. For now, we'll focus on getting Ali back into health, but now a psychotherapist is with her. When we found her, the effects of the drugs were strong and she could do nothing but cry until we handed her to the medical services.”

“We gave her something strong to keep her soothed and keep the pain at bay, but also something to wear off the effects of the drugs she was given,” the doctor added. “She didn't need surgery for her face, the fracture is minimal, but we did need to look in her sexual areas, with anaesthesia of course. Now she's in a state of shock. She's unresponsive, but we know she's not in physical pain. Too groggy for that. We didn't want to call you until the situation was under control.”

“I'll stay with her for as long as she's here. Thank you for everything.”

Ashlyn was taken to Ali's room just as the psychotherapist left. Said professional kindly took Ashlyn's hand.

“Patience, okay? And be cautious with physical contact, it may trigger a negative reaction. She'll come into herself, her brain is just stuck processing something so huge. I'll be back in the morning.” Ashlyn nodded and entered the room alone.

She could almost feel her heart drop to the ground the second her eyes locked on Ali. The brunette lied on her bed, with machines monitoring her vitals and an IV in the one arm that wasn't in a sling, save for her wrist, that was bandaged with a cast until it covered part of her hand. She had a bandage on her forehead, her cheek was bruised, and her lower lip's side was swollen. She was in a hospital gown and her dark hair was loose as she looked without seeing towards her lap, as her bed was propelled up so she wasn't flat. Ashlyn took a deep breath and pulled a chair to the bedside, sitting on it and leaning forward, looking into Ali's face.

The defender was ashen pale, which made her bruises more prominent, and wasn't blinking, just had her eyes half opened and cast down.

“Alex,” Ashlyn said softly. “Liebling, I'm here. I'm so sorry it took me so long.” Seeing Ali didn't seem to listen, she tempted her luck and put her tattooed forearm on Ali's vision field, supporting it gently on her belly.

Ali blinked and her injured hand moved slowly to her hand, as if trying to determine whether it was real. She traced her own face on Ashlyn's skin, the minuscule star in the middle of her inside wrist that represented their son, the owl she also had tattooed... and then her eyes filled with tears and she looked up at Ashlyn.

“Ash?”

“I'm here,” Ashlyn sighed deeply, locking eyes with her, “I'm here and I love you, Alex. I love you so much.” Ali broke into crying and Ashlyn moved to sit on the verge of the bed, letting her grab her arm and leaning over to kiss her shoulder and let her lean against her, crying.

Ashlyn didn't manage to sleep all night long. She sat there, watching Ali drift off to restless sleep, watching her frown and wince in her sleep, she sat there as the morning nurses came by to check on Ali and give her and anxiolytic, and only moved to call Chris and let him know what happened, and to text her family and friends to simply say Ali had been assaulted but that she'll be in the hospital for just a day or two before she got to take her home, as the doctors had said. Ali's family immediately said they'd be visiting, and Chris promised to take care of his nephew like a father would.

“I'm not hungry,” Ali said tiredly as the nurse brought in some breakfast.

“I'll just leave it here, and if you feel like it, you can give it a bite,” the nurse said kindly. “It would probably help you.”

“Thank you,” said Ashlyn, and the nurse smiled at them softly and left. The nurse had left the tray of food, mainly some juice-less fruit, to avoid itching in her wound from the juices, and options of cereal, a bottle of water, and biscuits, on a small table that supported on a stick that held it from one side to a wheeled support, so you could wheel the table over the bed as close as the patient needed. Therefore, Ashlyn pulled it closer to Ali, grabbed a piece of apple, that was already cut, and took it to Ali's lips. “Come on, it'll help. I promise.” Ali gave her a sceptic glance, but took the slice of apple into her mouth and munched slowly. “Is it good?”

“Uhm...” Ali half-shrugged with her healthy shoulder. “Tastes like an apple from a hospital.” Ashlyn half smiled.

“Still better than vitamin smoothies then,” Ashlyn said, making her half smile as well. The goalkeeper had a feeling that this was going to be their best way to deal with it, with dark humour, jokes, and trying not to poke the subject too much. Ashlyn got her to eat a whole apple, drink some water, and eat one biscuit, slowly, before the psychotherapist from the night before returned, along with Doctor Robbins.

“Hello,” the doctor had a huge smile, warm and friendly. “How was the night ladies?”

“Shitty,” Ali replied. “Are you my doctor?”

“I am. My name is Amanda, and you can call me by it if you want. Can I call you Ali?”

“Yeah, it's what everyone does.”

“You don't remember me from last night, right Ali? Nor Doctor Olive Matthews here?” she added, motioning to the black woman by her side. Ali shook her head.

“I'm sorry, I don't remember anything after...” she gulped. “After the ambulance.”

“It's okay, you were in shock,” said Doctor Matthews with a kind, compassionate smile. “I'm a psychotherapist, we actually met last night, but I thought we should see each other more often, don't you think?” Surprisingly, Ali nodded.

“I don't know how to live with this, Olive. Shit, and where's Aiden? I never...” she seemed to suddenly remember him, and looked at Ashlyn.

“Don't worry,” Ashlyn said. “Daycare phoned me to get him, and Chris is taking care of him. You were gone for about sixteen hours before I was called, so... I panicked and told everyone I hadn't heard from you in case anyone knew anything, so Chris came over. And your family is also on their way...”

“Shit, my parents and Kyle?” Ashlyn nodded. “No, Ash, tell them not to come, they cannot find out...”

“Ali, how do you plan to hide this from them? They know I called the police. They know you were gone for the longest time, I wouldn't be surprised if they imagined this happened. Kyle was... abused as well, wasn't he? It's not hard to put two and two together.”

“Why don't we sit down and relax?” Olive suggested, as the doctors grabbed chairs to sit on, as Ali was getting stressed. Ashlyn was back on a chair as well. “Ali, first of all you have to remember you choose how much you inform and who. Your family has been understandably worried, but you always have the option and right to say 'I don't want to talk about this'. No one can force you to do something you don't want to do anymore.”

“I don't want them to suffer,” said Ali. “If they didn't know, they would be better.”

“Actually, our imagination often puts things worse than they might have been. When 9/11 happened, families only wanted the truth, you know?” the psychotherapist explained softly. “It was worse for them to think of the many horrible ways in which their relatives might have died, than to know how it was. When you know the truth for certain, and you don't leave room in your imagination to wonder, you can face whatever comes. If you know there is a shark in the beach, you can be careful and prevent, but if you don't know how many there are or where, you'll just panic and never get in the water. In a similar way, it may help your family to know things so they can deal with them. You were kidnapped, beaten-up and sexually assaulted, and those are terms we cannot run away from because it'll only make it harder to deal with. It's okay if those terms cause an emotional response, Ali,” she added, as Ali had started to cry. “It's okay, you can cry, it's nothing to be embarrassed of.”

Ashlyn observed as Ali dealt with herself, taking deep breaths until she had calmed herself down a little.

“It's just hard...” Ali excused herself.

“Of course,” Olive nodded. “No one expects this to be easy. That's why I'm here, to make sure you can and will deal with these events and move on with your life. And it will happen, even when you think there is no way. You just have to be patient with yourself, communicate, and worry less about others. Your family can handle this, they have to, but you go first. And if you need to talk, that goes before the need to protect anyone, they're grown-ups, they'll take care of themselves.”

“It's just that,” Ali sighed. “My big brother Kyle, we're so close, and he was raped like, over a decade ago. He was in the hospital for a surgery he needed, and while he was out of it, a male nurse...” she shook her health. “My brother's gay, but he never consented, and there was nothing he could do, he was too drugged, like me. But he didn't tell anyone for years, and when he did, my family was broken.”

“Well they'll be sad, and angry, and many other things, but that will be okay. It has to be, because if you had to hide this for a few years, then it'll slowly eat you up from inside out, and it would be worse. I'm sure it didn't help him to hide it.” Ali shook his head.

“He's had a ton of issues,” she admitted. “Now he's good though. Fifteen years sober this year. He won't relapse, right?” Ali added, worrying. She just sounded small and weak.

Olive shook her head.

“He won't, because he's got a very loving family, and a ton of friends he can talk about it with, people who know his struggles and can help him feel better. And same goes to you. Besides, if he needs anything, we can give him my number, right? And to your parents, would that help you feel more relaxed about them knowing?” Ali nodded. “Great, then we'll do that. Now, Amanda here thought you might want to know the extent of your injuries. Do you?”

“Yes. I want to go home to my son, he's still breastfeeding and he needs me. We've never been apart this long.”

“Well, I'm not sure you should go home just yet, but we can bring him over if that helps you,” said Amanda, the doctor. “You've got a small concussion that shouldn't give you more war than a headache every now and then for a few days, a cut in your forehead that it's stitched, your left shoulder dislocated, but it should be good as new in three or four months with physiotherapy and rehabilitation, and with you being an athlete it shouldn't be a problem...”

“So no returning to soccer this year either,” Ali said to Ashlyn, sadly.

“I've seen you recover from ACL, MCL and meniscus fracture all at once in a matter of a year, I wouldn't be surprised if you're in the league's championship,” Ashlyn said simply. “Just don't rush it, and whenever you're ready, soccer will always be there for you. It's not like there's ever been a better defender in this country, Alex, and our team loves you like family.”

“Well, yeah, football might have to be the least of your concerns for a while,” Amanda pointed out. “You've got a fractured rib in the left side, below your breast, but it'll be fully healed in about a month, it's very small, and so is your cheekbone fracture. So in a month, you should feel much better already. Broken wrist, two months.”

“I can't hold my child?” Ali frowned.

“You can sit down with him on your lap and hug him. Just don't hold him while standing up, okay? Just that,” the doctor soothed her. “And finally... there's some internal tearing in your vagina and anus,” she said, looking sad as Ali took a deep breath to calm herself. “We stitched it all and the stitches should be reabsorbed into your body, so no one has to touch again to remove them. Would it be okay if your wife takes a look daily and gives a thorough clean-up?”

Ali looked at Ashlyn and nodded.

“My wife has surgeon hands, they're magic,” Ali bragged with a small smile.

“I'll try my best,” Ashlyn smiled back, exhausted.

“Good thing it's a woman, other victims don't let their husbands close to them and it makes things harder,” the doctor commented smiling small. “Well if that's handled-up, they'll be all cured in a couple weeks. So physically, you'll progressively feel better and better as the days pass by, but if you're in any pain, discomfort... I'm here, and you've got a crazy good insurance, so don't hesitate because they'll pay anything you need. My suggestion is you stay for another twenty-four hours, so the nurses can check things and make sure you don't get infections and keep an eye on that concussion, but I'd understand if you just wanted to go home.”

“I appreciate your concern,” said Ali. “I truly do, you guys are amazing, but I've got a little baby home, who won't see his mothers for as long as we're here, in the care of my brother-in-law, who is a lovely man, but has never been alone with a baby before in his whole life, am I right?”

“Completely,” Ashlyn conceded.

“And my house will be full with family being my servants, so... I'd rather go home,” Ali said. “The guy who did this... is he out there?”

“He was arrested, and he may face capital punishment,” said Ashlyn, realizing Ali didn't know. “He was a policeman who was fired a decade ago for violent, Ali,” the defender frowned and her eyes widened, indignant. “Assault, kidnapping, rape, we could even add attempted murder, the policeman I went to suggested it. He'll never see the light of day again, other than to go to court.” She couldn't help sounding satisfied. It was the one time in her life she was happy Florida still had capital punishment.

“Then let's go home,” said Ali. “I want to hold our baby.”

Before she went home, she had to give police and her psychotherapist and doctor all the details she could remember, which to Ashlyn's surprise, were a lot, so they could make sure to investigate things properly and treat her properly respectively, but at last, she was allowed home.

  
  


  
  


 


	4. Kriegers

**Chapter 4: Kriegers.**

It took about an hour to sign the papers of voluntary discharge, get Ali to change into her clean clothes, then Ashlyn brushed her hair and, for the first time ever, Ali didn't want mascara, because her face was too sensitive. Ashlyn walked by her side slowly towards the car, keeping an eye to see any signs of warning as Ali approached their car, but after a deep breath, Ali simply entered the car, asking about her own car. Ashlyn drove a black BMW.

“Police has it,” said Ashlyn, driving away from the parking lot, “for evidence. They'll return it in a few days with the window already fixed, they're great.”

“Good,” Ali nodded, leaning back in her seat. She had been given a bunch of different painkillers for her to use the one she preferred, and antibiotics to prevent infections down there. “You'll have to go to work, but Chris can drive me around.”

“Do you really think I'm going to work?” Ashlyn snorted a laugh. “I'm not flying to LA with this situation home, Alex. You know me, I'd be throwing up from worry.”

“You can't stay home with me forever. The team needs you, and what's more, you need football. Your mental health is delicate as it is, soccer always helped you.”

“Maybe I'll return in a month or two, when you're better physically at least, but until then, I just want to be with you. That helps my mental health. Cuddle time with my wife and our son, it's just ideal.”

Ali snorted a laugh, looking at her wife, and feeling a little lucky that at least, she had the family that she had.

“I love you, Ash.”

“I love you too,” Ashlyn reached a hand to squeeze her knee. “More than life itself.”

The return home was surprisingly short, but Ali fell asleep regardless, waking-up as Ashlyn pulled into the garage. She rejected Ashlyn's offer to carry her, instead content with the hand the goalkeeper put on her lower back, protectively walking her home. The second the goalkeeper opened the front door, Logan was up and down against Ashlyn's body, as the short-haired woman stood in the middle before Logan could hurt Ali by accident.

“Logan, Logan, relax,” Ashlyn grabbed her collar and led them to carefully sniff Ali and lick her, not letting the dog support much weight on the defender, who grinned, petting her biggest baby. “Let's go, horse!” Ashlyn playfully slapped the dog's ass guiding her into the house and Ali followed.

They found Chris in the kitchen, baby on one arm as he cooked lunch, whose delicious smell filled the house.

“Hi you,” Chris rushed to hug Ashlyn and paused looking at Ali. “I imagine you don't want men nearby?”

“You're my brother,” Ali said simply, hugging him and the baby. “Thanks for taking care of Aiden.”

“Are you kidding? We had the best time, my nephew and I. He's quite the entertainer.” Ali sat on a kitchen stool and Ashlyn helped her hold Aiden on her lap, both women kissing him.

“I can't express how much I missed you, love,” Ali's eyes filled with tears, but she closed them and just held her son close.

“Ali's family is coming,” said Ashlyn, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Is it okay for you to sleep in the studio and leave the room to Kyle? It's a comfortable sofa-bed.”

“Don't worry, Sis,” Chris busied himself cooking. “I've already slept even in chairs with the little man. He farted in my room and I had to evacuate it.” He joked. “Did you have breakfast?”

“She didn't,” answered Ali.

“I'm not hungry,” Ashlyn saw her brother was cooking some vegetables and fries. “I'll have some of that, though,” her phone rang, and she saw it was Marc Skinner. “Shit, it's Marc,” she looked at Ali, “what do I tell him?”

“The truth,” Ali decided, her chin against her son's hairy head. “Tell him to tell the girls as well. I don't want to be the bearer of such news, and I don't want them to think you're bailing on them for nothing.”

“Okay,” Ashlyn sighed. “I'm going to the studio, okay? Chris, she's not supposed to hold any weight, she's got a broken wrist and a dislocated shoulder and she'll try to carry her son around.”

“Gotcha,” Chris exchanged a smile with Ali and Ashlyn left to the other room. “So how terrible are you?”

“Better if I don't think about it,” Ali answered, focusing on her son, who was drooling on her neck. “Whatever happened, happened, you know? And I have to prepare for telling everyone.”

“You know what?” Chris served lunch and sat with her around the kitchen island. “You're a freaking hardcore woman, and you're going to get through this. We're all here for you, all right?”

“Thanks, Chris,” Ali looked at him appreciatively. “I think I'm just a little in shock still. Doesn't feel real.”

“You take as much time as you need.”

Ashlyn returned and grabbed fries from Chris' plate, checking her watch.

“Deb called. She was visiting Kyle and Peter in New York,” Peter was Kyle's fiancé. They had gotten engaged over Christmas and would wed in the summer, after having dated for three years and a half. “They made it to Dumfries last night to pick up your Dad, and will land in Orlando in an hour. They offered to get a taxi, but I think it's better I pick them up?”

“Yes,” Ali nodded, nervously. “You pick them up, prepare them, tell them to please hold it together because if they crumble, I'll crumble.” Ashlyn agreed, munching some more fries from her brother, who didn't seen to mind. “I think I'm going to just get comfortable on the sofa with Aiden, this stool is killing my ribs.”

“I'll help you,” Ashlyn grabbed Aiden from Ali. “Chris, you watch over them for me?”

“You don't even have to ask. By the way, will Mum and Dad come?”

“I told them to wait, not overwhelm Ali with people. Same I told Marc to tell the girls, but knowing them, we'll see...”

Ali tucked herself on the sofa's chaise-longue with her favourite blanket and a ton of cushions, helped by Ashlyn, and took their son in her arms for his usual nap.

“Thank you, Ash,” Ali pecked her on the lips, careful with her own injured lip. She wasn't hungry for lunch, since she had had a late breakfast, so she wasn't thinking of moving for any reason.

“No problem. Take it easy, okay love? And you take care of Mama, big man,” Ashlyn kissed the top of their son's head as he started drifting to sleep, snuggled with his mother. “Careful with that rib.”

As Ashlyn sat into her car, she took a deep breath and pressed her forehead against the steering wheel for a moment, gathering herself up. She was dreading telling the Kriegers.

The drive to the airport was made long due to intense traffic, so she texted the Kriegers to tell them to wait a moment because she was stuck in traffic, but getting there. Since she was coming late, instead of parking the car she drove to the arrivals door, where the family waited, and stopped the car briefly for them to get in.

“Hi Sis,” Kyle leaned between the front seats from behind to kiss Ashlyn. “So are you going to tell us what's up with Alex?”

“If anyone hurt her, we've been talking about it,” said Peter, squeezing between Kyle and his soon-to-be father in law, while Debbie sat in front with Ashlyn. “And we think we could make it look like an accident.”

“Guys, if I see the bastard who put a finger on her, I'm not sure he'll live to tell it,” said Ashlyn, driving away. “Let's get out of here and I'll tell you everything. Ali's home with my brother, resting, but we're going to have lunch outside so she doesn't have to give any explanations she's not ready to give.”

“That bad, Ash?” Debbie worried. Ashlyn took a deep breath.

“Just wait.”

They went to a restaurant Ashlyn knew where they could get a private table behind some folding screens in the dinning area, that wasn't for lunch use unless you were a friend and somewhat famous. Ashlyn and Ali were friends with the owners and the waiters, and came often, having a table already 'theirs'. Because they all knew they'd lose all appetite soon, they barely asked for food, and once there were drinks on the table, Ashlyn decided not to test their patient any longer, and told them everything. By the time she was finished, the family had lost all facial colour and Kyle looked about to faint, so Peter kept an arm around him for comfort. Debbie's eyes were full of tears, and Ken held her hand tightly, his lip quivering.

“She doesn't look well,” Ashlyn warned them, “she's very bruised, and the psychotherapist warned me to be careful touching her, even more the men, in case it triggers a PTSD response. That said, we all know she's made of tough wood, and she'll get over this, she just needs time. And right now, she's a bit in shock, so don't expect her to be hysterical, because she's pretty chill, actually. She just wanted to be with Aiden. She doesn't want anyone to make a big fuss and overwhelm her.”

“All right,” Ken nodded slowly, clearing his throat. “What can we do?”

“Mostly, aid her around because of the physical wounds, I think right now they're heavier than the mental ones, because she can't move without being in pain, if it wasn't for the painkillers. She's not supposed to hold any weights, but she's stubborn, so I know she'll try.”

“Okay,” Debbie gulped, rubbing her eyes. “We'll do everything we can. You're supposed to fly to LA, right?”

“I'm not going,” Ashlyn said. “I spoke with Marc today and we discussed things and decided I should focus on family for a couple weeks, and then perhaps stick to home games for a couple months until Ali's body is in better shape, when her bones heal. She can do physiotherapy and rehab with our team of professionals in the club, but not yet. So far the club will justify my absence to the public saying Aiden's a bit sick and I'm staying home to help with him, and on Monday, they'll come up with a firmer explanation for my long-term half absence, we'll see whether we tell the truth or make something up, whatever Ali wants.”

When they arrived home, they were surprised to find Ali and Chris chatting on the sofa with Sydney Leroux and Alex Morgan, both friends of Ali and Ashlyn for over a decade, a neighbours for the past few years. Aiden was sleeping in Chris' arms, so Ali could get up to hug her family, who did their best to get it together. Ashlyn and Chris took care of the suitcases, moving Chris' things to the studio, where they had a sofa that transformed into a bed, and the goalkeeper, who felt a need to stay busy so she didn't have to think of murdering Ray Smith, offered to make teas, coffees and herbal teas, depending on everybody's preferences. Ali was usually a coffee person, but since caffeine wasn't convenient in the moment, she was happy with a lime blossom tea, and Ashlyn poured herself another because she already had her nerves all over the place and hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. She had grey areas under her eyes, and she didn't even care anymore.

“He was an ex cop?” Ashlyn heard Kyle ask as she came over with the drinks and they sat on the sofa, that formed a big C around the coffee table, as it was a corner sofa with chaise-longue. She sat by Ali's side as her brother scooted over to give her space.

“Yes, he was wearing his uniform,” Ali was explaining, holding her mug between her hands. “Then he was suddenly on me and then he must've hit me, because there's a small gap there I don't remember. And the rest, I'd rather not talk about just yet.”

“Is that capital punishment in Florida?” Peter asked.

“It is,” Ashlyn nodded. “One bastard less, you know? We've got too many.”

“Since when are you in favour of death penalty?” Ali asked Ashlyn, surprised.

“Since a freaking ex-cop can murder my wife. Ali, if you hadn't been so close to the car that they could trace blood drops to his flat, you might be dead by now,” Ashlyn shrugged. “I'm all in for killing bastards like that. He's guilty as he can be, caught in the act, if I could I'd kill him myself, you know? Just grab one of my uncle's fishing knives and...”

“Stop it, you're not like that,” Ali said softly. “You're just angry because it hits home.”

“Bloody right,” Ashlyn sipped from her tea.

“I'd rather he spends his life in prison,” said Ali. “I mean, I have to live with this forever, right? And if I live a long life, that's about sixty years to live with something. He's already old, won't get as much, but it's better than if he just got to die and get it over with.”

“Well, if you put it like that, yeah,” Ashlyn agreed.

“Police must be pissed it was one of their own, sort of,” Alex Morgan commented, sipping from her coffee. “At least he's gone, whatever happens, there's no way he can prove his innocence when a bunch of cops saw him.”

“If he's smart, he'll collaborate, see if he can get a deal somehow,” Ken speculated.

“So,” Ali nudged Ashlyn with her elbow, “was Aiden too upset I left him too long there?”

“No,” Ashlyn half smiled, “he was half asleep when I picked him up and he's six-months, he doesn't have that much of a time conception. Besides, I arrived quite fast, so he didn't have much time to feel abandoned. By the way, before I forget, we have to decide what we tell the world, because I decided with Marc not to play for a couple weeks and not to play abroad for a couple months, which will also affect the National Team, but I mean,Pride fans will be wondering why the captain suddenly doesn't play abroad. We can't say Aiden's sick for two months.”

“You shouldn't have, you should go and play, I told you,” Ali argued.

“Ali, take two seconds to think what you would do if you were in my spot. Would you go and travel the world for games with your wife home hurt with your kid? No. Doesn't matter if twenty people are home to help.”

Ali had to admit Ashlyn was right. Any time that the goalkeeper had been minimally injured, she'd feel guilty about leaving her, and they didn't even have a child the last time. She had little trouble to recognize there were many things she couldn't do on her own anymore, an ability she had acquired in her last trimester of pregnancy, when she had stopped being as stubborn as in the first six months.

“Okay, you're right, I'd be stuck to your hip,” Ali admitted, and Ashlyn nodded. “But I can't tell the world I was... I mean kidnap and... it's a big thing. Too much.”

“You can say Ali was assaulted in the street and beaten-up, period,” Sydney suggested. “Her injuries are big enough for anyone to see and understand the right thing for a wife to do is stick around.”

The defender nodded in agreement.

“Sounds decent enough,” Debbie opined. “And if anyone has any issues, they can tell the walls.”

“Yeah, I like the idea,” said Ali. “Can I ask you one big favour, though?”

“Anything,” Ashlyn looked at her wife, curious.

“That you do a press conference to say it. Don't let anyone else speak for us, don't put a written statement for people to misinterpret. You are the captain, and you ought to show your face, connect with them face-to-face like you always have. It's what a leader does. Because we know how this works, people always take things out of context and make you look like a jerk, and you might not care, but the idea that you're going to get bullshit for being a perfect wife twists my stomach. I mean, unless you really don't feel like facing the press like that...”

Ashlyn bit her lip in thought.

“Marc told me the same thing for next Monday,” Ashlyn admitted. It was now a Tuesday, so there was time to decide. “I mean, I guess it's easier if I don't have to tell the full truth, but I'm going to meditate it for a couple days. See what people say when the Pride explains my absence for this week's games using Aiden, shut up in the social media until then. But they always twist whatever I say, even on video, so... I don't know, I'll see.” They were only playing pre-season games so far, but they still had a bunch and they were still important. They played pre-season friendlies, or against university teams, and in the last few years the number of pre-season games had risen a lot.

“Thank you for not making me do it though.”

“Are you kidding, if anyone even comes near you with a camera, I'll break it, I swear,” Ashlyn made her chuckle.

“So aggressive Harris,” Alex said amused.

“Aggressive as fuck, you can't imagine my level of anger, jokes aside,” Ashlyn acknowledged. “But that's what therapists are for. I'm going to take a nap, okay?”

“You need it,” Ali gave her a kiss.

“I'll take the little man,” Ashlyn took him from her brother, and went to the bedroom, feeling she needed to lie down and really sleep before she got unexpectedly furious with anyone.

“Aren't you tired sis?” Kyle asked his sister, putting an arm around her.

“No,” Ali sighed. “I slept a ton in the hospital. I'm just... bit in pain actually. But I'll hold on and take something later, I'm breastfeeding and I don't want to be full of pills.”

That first night back home, Ali asked Ashlyn for help to get bathed. She felt so dirty she kept asking Ashlyn to rub tougher with the sponge on her skin, until it almost burned, but the goalkeeper continued to be as delicate as possible, even more over her multiple bruises. She braided Ali's hair back, she ironed her pyjamas so they were warm and cosy, and then accepted her petition to check down there as the nurse had, only in written instructions, told her how to do. While Ali got ready, mostly mentally, Ashlyn prepared gauzes and the medicine she had to put to make sure her stitches and wounds healed, and washed her hands twice with hot water. Then, Ali lied on the bed with her heels firmly planted on the ground and her trousers off, and nervously stared at the ceiling first, but then, getting a flashback from staring at it, she changed and decided to look at Ashlyn, reminding herself mentally that it was just Ashlyn, her loving, gentle wife, who would never put a hand on her to hurt her.

Meanwhile Ashlyn was having a different conflict, mentally preparing for what she might see. Deciding Ali needed her to appear calm and collected, she smiled small at her wife and helped her slide down just enough for her to be able to reach her intimate parts while sitting on the bed bench at the feet of their bed. She gently lifted her hips to slide a towel underneath in case the medicine dripped, and she slowly looked down.

The defender often keep her pubic hair to a minimum, so it was easy to spot the bruises there and on the different groin and thigh areas, from hard grabbing. Ashlyn took a deep breath and saw her reddened clit, but the lips closed dry so she couldn't see anything below.

“Babe, I'm going to have to touch you,” said Ashlyn. “I have to open your lips up, is that okay?” Ali gulped nervously, but nodded. “I need you to actually tell me, love.” Ashlyn added, feeling she couldn't continue if Ali didn't clearly say she could. Ali forced a nervous smile.

“Do what you have to do, Ash.”

The goalkeeper had always been great at dissecting animals, because she had a surgeon's pulse. Now, however, her hand shook a little, and her index finger slowly touched her clit, feeling a pang in her chest as Ali couldn't help to cringe physically. She slowly, so gently she was barely touching skin, slid the finger downwards to gently part her lips open. Ashlyn clenched her jaw. It was all reddened, swollen, lacerated, bruised, and when she carefully went to examine the entry with her finger, Ali gasped.

“I'm sorry,” Ashlyn apologized, moving her finger away.

“No, it's just... abrasion, I guess. Stings.”

“I'm sorry,” without thinking, Ashlyn leaned down and pressed a gentle, soft kiss over her vaginal lips. It wasn't something sexual, just a tender, loving gesture, and it moved Ali. Ashlyn took a deep breath to grab the disinfectant they had bought specifically for this. “It's a little cold, okay?” she carefully started cleaning the area, fast because Ali was shaking a little and making little noises when it stung or simply hurt to be touched.

She then put some medicine that helped heal the area and soothe it, like a cream, and carefully lifted Ali's legs over her shoulders so she could look at her stitched-up ass as well. It was in such poor condition, she was on a especial diet and medication so going to the bathroom wouldn't be agonizing. Ashlyn repeated the process, then washed her hands while Ali mentally recovered, put all the medicines away, and prepared a soft pad on Ali's panties to put it so her pyjama trousers wouldn't get dirty if she bleed a little.

“You've done so well,” said Ashlyn with a weak voice, lying next to her and wrapping her arms around her with utmost gentleness, trying to forget the anguish of the hours without hearing from her the day before. Ali let a shaky breath out, nudging into her, as they got as close as possible. Ashlyn felt her eyes fill with tears and she closed them, clenching her jaw and pushing herself to keep it calm. “I love you baby. I love you.”

  
  


 


	5. Bring it on

**Chapter 5: Bring it on.**

The days that followed were hard. Ali struggled sleeping at night, struggled with her injuries and struggled with her mind, that graced her with nightmare after nightmare. In the mornings, Ashlyn drove her to psychotherapy, and then she could nap until lunch time. She wasn't feeling very hungry and she knew she was dissociative, but baby steps, as Olive always told her. She put her focus on Aiden and Ashlyn and used that to keep herself with the head above water, and some days it even felt as nothing had happened. The rough times were talking with Olive, giving a full statement to the police, or struggling with her body, but for the rest, her family made it easy. Ashlyn washed her with a sponge and, having suffered shoulder injuries, helped her with the physiotherapy she started going to in the evenings, and sometimes the whole family would go to the lake and just enjoy a soothing day. Everyone seemed to have reached a silent agreement of not pushing Ali to talk, but letting her say what she could when she could or get distracted watching soccer if she wanted. Ashlyn trained home and jogging outside with Logan, so another entertainment was watching her train, which she always enjoyed.

The Orlando Pride Captain and goalkeeper accepted at last to do a press conference on Monday, just a short thing, give a statement, explain what was going to happen and go. She was a little nervous, but putting on her purple shirt and jacket, she felt more the confidence of the captain, and with Ali's encouragement, she felt better.

“We'll watch on the computer,” Ali kissed her goodbye. Her lip was already pretty well, and her forehead only had a pink line. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

It was certainly easier when she could omit the rape part, and the kidnap. She sat there with Marc and Alex, the club's CEO and let the Pride employee introduce her.

“First of all, thank you for coming, I know it's not media day,” Ashlyn started, deciding to start kind. “So basically, I'm here to announce my decision, after getting the Orlando Pride's approval, to not just not having played last week nor trained with the team, but also not to do so for the remaining week of February. During this time, Alex Morgan will continue to be the captain, substituted by Dani Weatherholt whenever is necessary, and I won't join the team in any event or activity. Afterwards, during March and April, I will only be training with the team and playing home games, stepping back from away games and events, therefore affecting the beginning of the season, and I will be back to full duties in May. On the other hand, I've spoken with USWNT Head Coach Pia Sundhage and will not be joining international camps until at least, April 15th. The reason of this is unrelated to my son Aiden, even though at first it was said he was sick. I have to confess Aiden fortunately has excellent health and we sort of gave a small lie to buy time to plan the full strategy.”

“So good news is Aiden is just fine and has always been,” Alex said cheerfully. Ashlyn smiled small and nodded.

“However,” Ashlyn continued after taking a sip from her water bottle. “My reason to step back is still to put my family first. Family has come second to soccer for roughly the first thirty years of my life, and as much as I would love to be with the team physically and not just supporting from home, right now my home situation really needs for me to put my wife and our son first and foremost, and they need me home. The reason for this is a bit hard to talk about, so bear with me...”

“Take your time,” Marc supported her, and she nodded, taking a deep breath as she put words together in her mind, avoiding the journalists' eyes.

“As you know, I married fellow Pride player Ali Krieger two and a bit years ago, and nearing seven months ago we had our first child, reason why Ali stepped back from soccer last season and this pre-season. Now I have to tell you that just like I'm stepping back, she'll be stepping further back and she'll be gone at least sixteen weeks from now, probably more, and we'll actually be lucky if she's here on time for the playoffs. Our absences have the same reason. Last week on Valentine's Day, Ali was uhm...” she gestured vaguely with her hand. “She was assaulted by a man who's already under arrest. And he beat her up badly, resulting in a variety of broken bones and delicate injuries, so she cannot be here today as she's recovering home. But understandably, she's not physically fit to be alone with such a young child, and even though we've got a supportive family in town, I feel it is my duty as wife and mother to be the first to show up for her and our son, even more since assault comes not just with physical wounds, but with deeper, longer-lasting mental health wounds. I know if situations were reversed, Ali would be doing the exact same for me, just like she's always been there for me through every injury, for twelve years, so this decision to step back, for me, is one very easy to make. Soccer is temporary. What Ali and I have will survive death itself, and it's something I'm going to care for and nourish to the last consequences. We won't apologize for taking care of each other like we've vowed to do for every day of our lives.”

She decided she was done and took a deep breath, leaning back. If saying just that had been hard, she didn't want to imagine telling the absolute truth. Alex patted her shoulder in support and the media started asking questions, mostly to the men. One of them came to Marc, poking the wound.

“Coach, obviously with this situation between two of our main players, how does the team feel about this, and do you think you'll be ready to begin the season without Ali and Ashlyn?”

“Well to tell you the truth,” said the coach with a thick British accent, “when the team found out about the news, there was mostly anguish and worry, but solely about Ali's well-being. I think everyone's last concern was soccer, and the first was Ali. Most of the team has known Ali for close to five years, but a good part of it for over a decade, we've got players like Alex Morgan who have been with her even in the national team, so she's a very beloved teammate and friend.”

“And to the club she's... we're all a big family, sorry to interrupt,” CEO Alex said. Marc smiled.

“No, yeah, totally. We're together a lot of time weekly, when she was pregnant we were thrilled, when Aiden came we wanted to bring him into the family and we were dying to meet him, I mean, there's so much love. So actually what's harder now is not to get a well-prepared team to win despite Ali's absence or Ashlyn's absence, we have a great goalkeeper in Haley, we have other great players to go instead of Ali, and we've prepared that part ever since she announced she was planning to start the process to have a child. What's harder is to get them to focus and not worry about our friends here. I can tell you I was the one to tell the team, and there were tears, and there was disbelief, and there was a big sense of despair there. So what we really have to do is get the head in the game and for 90 minutes, forget about what happens outside the field. Ashlyn and Ali know they have our full support and we're there any time for anything they need, no explanations needed.”

When Ashlyn finally arrived home, she was drained. She found her family gathered on the sofa watching an Orlando City game, her own mother included. Her brother was back in Satellite, but with them being so close, her parents often popped by for the day, and now her mother was doing Ali's pedicure, an activity the girls enjoyed quite often, while Ali sat on the chaise-longue with the legs stretched and Aiden on Grandpa Ken's arms.

“So,” Ali raised an eyebrow, “what we have will survive death, uh? That was fucking beautiful.” She said, smirking tiredly.

“Babe, what we have would survive a fucking black hole,” Ashlyn leaned to kiss her. “Now, let's just rest home forever, please.”

That night, Ali struggled to sleep, which wasn't weird those days. If she moved one way, her shoulder hurt, if she moved another, her ribs, or her wrist, or her face. She didn't get to be very comfortable, and if she fell asleep, her dreams were rough and uneasy. Beside her, she could make-out Ashlyn's facial features under the moonlight, hear her deep breathing, see the outline of her body passed out. She tended to sleep face down, and this was no exception, her big hands hugging one pillow under her head and chest. Ali was a little envious she slept so well, although she knew it wasn't always so easy. Often, Ashlyn became a terrible sleeper, but tonight was a good night. She had had therapy with her regular therapist, she had followed her night routine to the last point, and she had taken a relaxing warm shower before bed, which always helped. Ali, on the contrary, couldn't follow her normal routines at all due to her physical injuries, let alone shower or bathe comfortably. Ashlyn would wash her in the bathtub with a soft sponge,as delicately as possible, but it still wasn't very comfortable, and then opening her legs in bed so her wife could check her most sensitive areas carefully and up-close wasn't precisely dreamlike either.

“Alex?” Ashlyn seemed to have awoken herself, and her hoarse voice came from her mouth pressed against the pillow, somehow.

“Yeah?”

“What's up? Aid'n cryin'?”

“No, I just can't sleep. But you close your eyes, I'm okay.”

“Mmm... B'shit,” Ashlyn stretched a hand and caressed her healthy cheek with the back of her fingers. “Want some medicine?”

“I can't, hasn't been eight hours from the last.”

“Uhm... I'll give you a feet massage.”

“There's no need, babe...”

“Sh... feet are the door to the whole body, did ya know?” Ashlyn rolled to turn her lamp on and yawned, rubbing her eyes and checking the alarm clock and Aiden's baby monitor. “Boy sleeps like the dead sometimes, uh?”

“Gets it after you, thankfully.”

Ashlyn smirked smugly, stretching as she stood up from the bed. She grabbed her housecoat because it was a little chilly, and walked over to pull the bed bench a bit away from the feet of the bed, sitting on it and facing Ali. She pulled the duvet up enough to reveal her wife's feet, that Ali was so insecure about, and massaged them carefully. Ali smiled at her wife, whose hands were just a gift from heaven.

“Thank you, you're the nicest.”

“Just tryin' to keep up with you. Are you not sleeping because your head doesn't let you, or because your injuries don't?”

“Injuries,” Ali sighed. “My back is contracted, but if I move everything else hurts.”

“Well, give it a week and down there won't even itch anymore, it's looking better. And give it three weeks and with the ribs and your face healed, you'll be able to move more and feel better. In seven weeks, your wrist will also be fine. The cuts have already improved a lot.” The skin around Ali's wrists that had been cut from the ropes with which she had been tied had already healed a lot.

“Yeah, but in the meantime... like, remember how you were when you had shoulder surgery? Pain in the ass,” Ali joked, playfully teasing. Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“I don't remember one time I wasn't a baby about getting hurt,” the goalkeeper admitted with a smile, focusing her fingers on the muscles of those feet. She was a brick wall from doors out, but in her house, she was the babiest of babies, even with mere colds. “Although I could hardly take painkillers thanks to addiction, so that also explains a lot. You take yours, rest, take it easy, and we'll manage to bring you back. You got a good rehab team at the Pride.”

“That I do,” Ali closed her eyes, letting a long breath out. “Can't stop thinking about that day.”

“Me neither.” Ali looked at her, curious.

“What do you think?” Ashlyn shrugged.

“That I was right there. I parked my car two streets from yours. I walked from the daycare to the gym, and then from the gym to my car, I walked right by the street where yours was and I didn't see it. And if I had seen your car, I would've noticed the smashed window, the blood drops, called the police... you would've been out of there within the first two hours. Not... sixteen hours later. I was right there, and then again later in the day I went back with some friends and Chris, we were a search team, and we were so close...” she sighed, shaking her head. “It was as if I could feel you had to be in the area, yet I couldn't see you.”

“The only guilty one is that guy.”

“I know, but that doesn't change the fact that I was so close to finding you, right there, and just...” Ali looked down at Ashlyn, frowning. “Anyway, what do you think about?” asked Ashlyn, still focused on her feet.

“Well, I was actually thinking I was an anal virgin, and it pisses me off he got to be the first for that. Like, not that I was ever interested, but seriously, if I was going to do it, my wife should have the pleasure, not some dickhead,” Ali commented. Ashlyn snorted a laugh, shaking her head.

“Seriously though?” the goalkeeper was amused at the unexpected comment.

“Hey, it's true. Don't you think about that? I cheated on you—,”

“That's not cheating.”

“But it is. I mean, I didn't choose it, but I slept with someone else. For the first time in... twelve years at least. Doesn't that piss you off?”

“What pisses me off is that someone, whoever it was, hurt you so badly. At no point had it crossed my mind to even consider it cheating, and to be honest, I don't. Ali, if while playing I fall on another player and accidentally grope her breasts while putting my hands out to protect myself, then that's not cheating, so why would rape be? It's all in the intention.”

“Okay, don't call it cheating, it just adds... it makes things worse for me to think that I had sexual intercourse with someone other than you. Even knowing I didn't look for it or want it.”

Ashlyn tucked her feet back into the duvet and walked over, lying down next to Ali and rolling to put an arm around her, bringing her close careful with not hurting her.

“Babe, there's nothing we can do about it, don't torture yourself,” the goalkeeper kissed her healthy cheek softly. “All that matters is that you love me and I love you, and you're alive, you survived, that's all I care about. It was sixteen hours of our lives, but we still have so much time to make great memories and leave this one behind. The least you focus on the fact that he wasn't me, the better.”

Ali nodded, pouting a little as she looked up at her.

“Do you think our friends would be mad we lied? We only told the truth to our close family and the Pride, and it worries me that when the rest of our family and friends find out...”

“They'll understand. And they'll react like everyone else so far; worrying, loving you, caring...” Ashlyn half-smiled, caressing her cheek lovingly. “No one's going to judge. Will you tell them one day?”

“I don't know,” Ali answered. “All I know is right now I'm not ready. But somehow it feels like when we hid our relationships. That if I said the truth, like all those Me Too women or even Kyle, I could have a more active role in the movement, other people would reach out to me and I'd be able to try and help... like we do with the gays. And hiding so much of the truth like that gives me remorse. But right now I can't assume that role.”

“You can't be everyone's saviour until you're okay, Ali. Put yourself first, and I promise you, if you ever want to tell the whole truth, everyone will understand and be comprehensive. And if you never do, that doesn't mean you can't help them and support them, just like we support Black Lives Matter and we're not black. They'll come to you because they know you'll be kind, not because of what you've lived or not. Now, you need to try to sleep. Aiden will be waking us up in three hours.”

“You're right. Thank you, Ash,” Ali kissed her softly. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“You'll never have to know. Oh, shit!”

“What?”

“I just realized, I never gave you your Valentine's Day present!”

“My... what?” Ali looked confused and disappointed as Ashlyn rolled over and searched in the bedside table until she pulled out a little box, wrapped with a lace and a little heart sticker. She gave it to Ali, suddenly excited, and the defender sat up and smiled, taking the present. “Babe, you didn't have to...”

“Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful. Despite everything else. Open it!” Ali's jaw dropped seeing the oval locket and the photographs inside, and grinned, kissing Ashlyn on the lips.

“It's beautiful, I love it! Thank you.”

“It's nothing, really...”

“I also got you something, actually. It's not much, but...” Ali walked over to the closet and rummaged inside one handed until she pulled out a book, and gave it to Ashlyn, who opened it, realizing it was a photo album, filled with family photographs from Aiden's birth onwards, showcasing Ashlyn's awesome mother and wife skills and all the love her family had for her. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Ashlyn chuckled, gleeful. “I _love_ it.”

“Happy Valentine's,” Ali kissed her. “Good thing about this happening then is that the memory will soon be buried under excellent, romantic, perfect new ones.”

“I'll make sure of that,” Ashlyn put the book away. “Now, come here, Warrior Princess. I want to cuddle you!”

 


	6. Hardship and truth

**Chapter 6: Hardship and truth.**

It took a month for the events to really sink in for both Ashlyn and Ali, and most particularly for the latter. After a month, give or take, Ali had completely healed, physically, save for her right wrist, that was better, in a cast, and would be perfectly fine in another month, and her dislocated left shoulder, that was no longer in a sling, unless she was going out, when she felt safer wearing it, but whose arm she still used minimally, although she was in physical rehabilitation for it. She took painkillers several times a day, special ones designed to be taken even if you were breastfeeding, so as she physically felt more like herself and could walk around the house and actually do things, and she was no longer so completely focused on pain, her brain seemed to decide it was time to deal with the psychological trauma. It wasn't like she hadn't already been dealing with it, she had had over thirty sessions with her psychotherapist so far and was on anxiolytic meds, but it seemed like before she was preparing for a not-that-real reality and now reality felt like a slap on the face.

Ashlyn also realized she was having difficulty with things, and talking with the same therapist she had trusted for years didn't seem enough. She felt angry all the time, never showing it against her family of friends, but she felt the tension inside. She felt it when she saw police on the street, when she saw politicians on TV, when she heard or read news about abuse, sexual offences, rapists, or sexism, and she felt her home state had betrayed her and her family. To Ali, she was surprised not to feel that much anger or negative feelings towards the exterior, and it became more about comprehending the events, accepting them, not having flashbacks, PTSD and nightmares, not being startled so easily, and the sadness and vulnerability she felt. She wasn't furious; she just fell powerless, small, unsafe and fearful. So she never wanted to be alone, would completely refuse to leave the house without another adult she trusted, started mistrusting most people she hadn't known in depth, and became wary. For someone who had always been brave, going to Germany without knowing anyone and being daring and independent, now she was a ball of fear and dependency, which was odd. And she would almost never leave the house, unless it was absolutely necessary. No going on trips or anything. Ashlyn suggested a getaway weekend in Satellite or wherever she wanted, but Ali refused.

“Where are you going?” Ali asked, as she was breastfeeding, now alone as everyone had had to go back to their lives and, mostly, jobs, and her mother, although retired, had a life in Miami, although came every weekend, while her parents-in-law popped by several times a week and were currently with Aiden at the park. Ali had seen Ashlyn put the collar on Logan and put her shoes on, and was already nervous.

“Babe, I'm just going to take Logan out for a run, so she can stretch her legs a bit more than in our garden. She's a big dog, she needs to run and all. It'll be just half an hour, promise.”

“No way,” Ali stood up. “I'll come with you. I'll get her toys and we can take her to the dog park.” Ashlyn was happy to have her tag along, but sad for knowing it was out of fear. Not just fear of being hurt, but of Ashlyn or Logan being hurt. In fact, it had taken a lot of convincing for her to let Ashlyn's parents take Aiden to the park, as she feared they'd get hurt as well.

“Okay.”

So the two women walked out of the house with Logan on a leash grabbed firmly by Ashlyn, who kept a hand there while Ali had her left hand on the crook of one of her elbows, walking side-by-side. The goalkeeper pretended not to notice the way in which Ali anxiously looked around all the time, or jumped a little when they heard a noise such as the crack of a branch, a loud child, or the steps of people jogging, yet acknowledged her struggle by smiling warmly at her to give her confidence and sometimes, lean for a kiss.

“Such a good, sunny Florida day,” Ashlyn commented as they reached the big dog park and she unleashed Logan, who ran off to meet a doggy friend. “So nice, don't you think?”

“Yeah...” Ali said with a small voice, nervously looking around, her nerves on point. Before, this had been a relaxing activity, something they enjoyed as a family. Ashlyn found a branch to throw Logan and her doggy friend, and the dogs ran back and forth while all the owners formed small groups to chat. At this hour, there were at least thirty other dogs, as it was a really big, beautiful park, with a small lake and huge trees. “Will your parents be all right with Aiden?”

“They were all right with two rebellious children, so they're more than all right with their angel of a grandson,” Ashlyn reassured her, confident. Ali was jealous of her wife in that moment.

The younger woman exuded confidence. She stood there, with her eyes on their dog, her hair just long enough to cover most of her neck, dark with highlights, wavy, beachy and rebellious, and she didn't have to look around to feel safe. She would be capable of breaking the nose of anyone who tried to harm her. Ali, on the other hand, was seven centimetres shorter, less than half as experienced in street fighting (not to say not experienced at all), had lost four pounds in the last month, and although she wore mascara again, she also hid dark shadows under her eyes. She looked weak, insecure, fragile even, or at least it was how she felt.

“When my arms fully recover,” said Ali on impulse, “I want to learn self-defence. I want to be able to protect myself if there's a next time, and to protect you and the kids.” _The kids_ was the affectionate term they used to refer to both Aiden and their dog Logan.

Ashlyn looked at her in surprise, and nodded slowly.

“It's a smart idea. Maybe I'll join you.”

“You should. Can you imagine what could happen if we were assaulted with Aiden? If Aiden had been in my arms, he'd be dead. If he had been in the car, he would've been there alone for hours until he was found, and by then he'd probably have dehydrated to death,” Ali frowned, shaking her head. “Maybe we should move. Find a safer neighbourhood.” Ashlyn raised her eyebrows, before throwing a branch again with a bit too much force.

“Alex, we live in a safe neighbourhood, in a gated community, for Christ's sakes,” Ashlyn argued tenderly. “We just have to get out sometimes.”

“Then we should change Aiden's daycare. It's in a clearly unsafe area, and change gym as well.”

“Al... we're not changing Aiden's daycare or gym. His daycare is the closest one home that also allows kids this young and is fine with our crazy schedule. It has the best recommendations, we love the caretakers, and there isn't a place half as amazing anywhere nearby. Besides, Aiden's happy there. And our gym is not so expensive, has all the equipment we need, the best personal trainers we could find, and a great opening time. But my point is not even that, my point is, when we looked for those things we researched for weeks and made sure the area was great, and yet this happened. And if we change, we'll also go somewhere we researched and saw it was a great area, but it doesn't mean we won't get assaulted. The world is an unsafe place, Ali, it doesn't matter where we go. We already are in the best possible area for us, and look at this the positive way; now security has grown where you were attacked, and the chances of an attack there are the lowest ever.”

Ali pressed her lips together and didn't say anything, but Ashlyn could tell she was still rummaging in her brain. By the time they arrived home, Ashlyn's parents were back with Aiden, whose squeals could be heard from the entry as his grandparents made noises for him. Lunch was ready in minutes, and as they ate, Ali was still thoughtful, even when she paused to breastfeed. An hour later, Ashlyn found her balancing herself forward and backwards on the rocking chair next to Aiden's crib, as she watched the boy nap. Only then, she looked soothed.

“Alex,” Ashlyn said lowering her voice out of respect for their son, closing the door as she entered. “If you really want to get out of here... we will. Anything you need.” She had thought more about the matter during lunch and decided it wasn't a matter of actually being safer, but of making Ali feel safer, just like she felt in areas of Satellite Beach that weren't safer than theirs, objectively.

“No,” Ali sighed, shaking her head. “You're right, being objective, this is the best area for Aiden, and the best daycare, leaving won't necessarily mean being safer, but it will mean forcing him to change environment and daycare when he's so young changes aren't so good. Besides, we know his caretakers so well by now, what if the new ones suck? I won't forgive myself if I make his life worse just because I let fear take over.”

Ashlyn took a seat on the rug, crossing her legs and supporting her back on the corner of the crib, so she could look both at his wife and their son. Of course Ali would eventually put Aiden first and foremost. He was their biggest treasure, after all.

“You know, maybe this is a bit like going back to the field after getting so many injuries. We know it may not always be safe, we know serious drama can unfold there, we know sometimes doesn't matter how much we do, things still go wrong. I mean, soccer players have dropped dead at times, right? But we still go back, like you won the World Cup in the same field where you had the ACL. We have to go back, and we have to find away to feel safe there, so one negative event doesn't change the whole game and condition our life forever, so we can make new, better memories there and protect the good ones the place already gave us.”

“I guess you're right,” Ali agreed, looking down at Ashlyn, no longer rocking her chair. “The scariest was the concussion, and then I had a head protector until I felt safe again. But I have nothing like that here.”

“You do,” Ashlyn told her. “You'll get fit again, you'll get strong, you'll go back to being the warrior you were born being, and you'll get some self-defence going. When trial time comes, you'll help put that son of a bitch in prison where he belongs, forever, and we'll do whatever it takes for women to be respected and for men to stop being violent with us, starting by raising this little one right. I'm not saying things will change from today to tomorrow, but this world is already much better than it was when we were children, and it'll be better every day. When this guy goes to prison, it'll teach all men what happens when you hurt someone, and they'll think twice next time, the world will be a bit safer. Baby steps. That'll be your head protector.”

Ali smiled softly at her, reaching her hands towards her so Ashlyn came over and gently sat on her lap, so the defender could wrap her arms around her.

“Yeah,” Ali said optimistically. “Hopefully that'll be enough. I mean, you managed to get back to surfing after seeing sharks nearby, or to go to places in Satellite where memories were shit, or to get back into the net even though one bad collision and you're dead. I'm listening to a wise person.” She pressed her lips against Ashlyn's arm, being the closest part of her to her lips. Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“What makes you think I feel any safer?” Ashlyn commented. “I don't, actually. But I guess for me it has become more about knowing if something bad happens, as it sometimes will happen, it'll be okay again because I've got a good net of support. I won't die on the field because nowadays if I get a stroke there'll be ten people ready to CPR or whatever it takes to keep me alive, and we have a wonderful insurance and top class doctors that have always managed to bring me back to health no matter what, and I've got you, family, friends. So hell can break loose, but it'll be all right, because we're not alone. It's not always easy to remember nor comforting enough, but most days, it does the trick.”

Ali nodded, finding she was pretty right.

“Of course,” the defender said with a tone of sudden realization. “Shit, it's no different than with Aiden, right? We know he'll one day start getting sick, or may break bones, or get heartbroken, we know we cannot assure the world will be hundred percent safe, we can only... try to teach him what to do when shit happens, prepare him for the worst, and make sure he has a good team of people to take care of him when he needs it. We don't say it'll be okay because nothing bad will happen, but because even if it does, things will be all right again. They have to be, life is ups and downs, not just all that's bad, right?” Ashlyn smiled and nodded, twisting a little to hold her face in her hands and kiss her slowly. Ali smiled against her lips and when they separated, they looked at each other lovingly. “You don't know how much you've just done for me.”

“Did you get a sudden spark in that brain of yours?”

“Girl I got a whole fire...” Ali chuckled, and went for a more intense kiss.

When the weekend arrived, a bunch of their friends were visiting, after Ali had decided it was time to tell their friends the truth, one step at a time. After all, their lawyer had just informed them that the trial would begin the following week, and it was a matter of time before the press found out the truth and published the bombshell, leaving her as a liar publicly. This fear only accelerated Ali's already made decision to tell nothing but the plain truth, first to their soccer family, so the Pride girls wouldn't have to be scared of accidentally blurting it out to a friend in the national team, then to their extended family and, lastly, the hardest part: the world, but only once her rapist was in prison.

The encounter was easy to organize, because that week, the National Team organized a training camp in Tampa, which was only a couple hours from their house, so they organized things in a way that before they all returned home, some of their closest friends could come over to spend a day at the pool, since even though it was late March, it was already quite hot in Orlando. Alex and Sydney lived in their area, so they were coming, and also they invited Crystal, Allie, Tobin, Christen, Kelley and Pinoe. Then, Ali commented with Hao on the phone, since said girl hadn't played soccer in a few years and was available, that they were hosting a small USWNT reunion and asked whether she wanted to come. Given that Hao was a close friend and had been worried about Ali's assault, she gave an instant yes. The same thing did Ashlyn with Abby, who lived not too far, in Florida, with her wife. They would do their best to have fun and enjoy the friends they missed, while simultaneously cheering Ali up and also allowing their friends to spend time with Aiden, of whom they asked photographs day and night. It would be a fun girls' Saturday with Aiden as the only man, and Ashlyn would get a barbecue going in the big garden they had by the riverside.

“Welcome!” Ashlyn grinned as the girls started arriving, hugging them one by one, together with Ali, while Logan jumped up and down from guest to guest.

“I see your arm is better?” Crystal chuckled kissing Ali's cheek repeatedly as they hugged affectionately.

“Somewhat, although my ribs are fine so give them a squeeze!” Ali giggled feeling all the love from their friends.

Ashlyn and Abby were soon drinking beer while standing by the grill as they cooked steak, sausages, vegetables, chicken and other stuff. Ali had cooked fries to go with it, and they all sat on the sofas surrounding a large coffee table in the garden, in the area they had by the opened outside door, under the outside wooden beam ceiling, with exterior TV and all. The chatting and laughter filled the air, and Aiden, who was wide awake after his nap, was passed from one to another, cooed to, and stimulated.

“So Ali's doing great after the beating I see?” Abby commented to Ashlyn.

“There are good days and bad days,” replied the goalkeeper. Abby had once been her mentor and took her under her wing when she was a rookie, so they had remained close, with Abby supporting TWLOHA. “It helps having all of you here. With her out of the National team, and not playing for club for over a year, she's missed everyone a lot.”

“Hey Harris, that smells great!” Kelley shouted from the pool. “Hurry up!” Ashlyn snorted a laugh.

“Coming!”

It was obvious everyone was just so happy to see each other. They played with Logan and when the food was ready the all sat on the outside sofas, some wrapped on towels because they came dripping from the pool, and more drinks were poured. Ali took Aiden in her arms and let him suck on a piece of chicken he didn't have teeth to eat. The group was catching up, talking about their husbands or wives, work, football, children, houses, families and all the novelties and gossip, and Ali didn't feel like risking worsening the mood just yet. She waited until some more glasses had been downed, bellies hurt from laughter, and plates were mostly finished, before introducing the topic.

“So...” Ali began, as Hao took over Aiden duty. “As much as we love having you here and we totally should do this more often, Ash and I had second intentions with this reunion.”

“We told you before guys, we're not into orgies,” Pinoe joked eliciting some soft giggles.

“You're all gorg, but it's actually about the assault,” Ashlyn interceded. “We... kind of half lied, half omitted part of the truth. Only the Orlando Pride, including our teammates there, and our parents and brothers know the whole truth. Well, and Pia. We had to tell for work.”

The group looked highly confused now.

“I wasn't ready for everyone to know, but I hate lying to such close friends as you when you've all been calling and texting and worrying... and what's the point now? Next week is the trial and chances are the press will find out and make it all public anyway,” Ali commented.

“What will they make public?” Christen asked, utterly confused. Ali took a breath and decided to just say it.

“That I was actually kidnapped and raped. Not just beaten up,” they could almost hear their friends' breaths hitching and stomachs knotting.

“What?” Abby blinked a few times, shocked. “That's impossible.”

“Unfortunately it isn't,” Ashlyn murmured. “She went missing on Valentine's Day. Sixteen fucking hours, I had reported her missing to the police and in the middle of the night they tell me she's in hospital and they've rescued her from a psycho's flat. He had her tied up, and she dislocated her shoulder trying to get out. She got all those injuries trying to get out, but he drugged her with that shit they use that paralyses you, and used her like a sex doll.”

There was a moment of silence as they took in the news, and then Hao simply turned around and hugged Ali tightly, careful with keeping Aiden aside in one arm.

“I'm so sorry,” Hao murmured as they hugged.

“I'm sorry I told Ashlyn to lie for me,” Ali said as they separated, feeling guilty. “I wasn't ready...”

“Don't be silly, you've got nothing to apologize for,” Christen also hugged her. “What are you waiting for girls? Group hug!”

They all hugged forming a big human pile, giving Ali all the support and words of encouragement they could muster until she was close to crying. Who did cry was Aiden, who had been left on the floor for the moment, playing with his toys as he was able to sit up, and now had shat himself, literally, so Ashlyn rushed to change his diaper and clean him up.

“You stinky boy,” Ashlyn murmured, cleaning his little ass, “you cute, but you stinky.” Aiden made little noises with his mouth and then yawned big. “Okay, let's get you to bed. You need a nap, don't you? Yeah, it's time.” She added checking her watch before grabbing Aiden and putting him on the crib. The minute his feet touched the mattress, he started crying, but stopped when Ashlyn lifted him back to her arms. “Oh, crocodile tears, really? That's cheating,” but she smiled seeing how he grabbed onto her, already closing his eyes, so she grabbed him blanket to put it around him, held him close, and embraced the privilege of having a kid who still craved her.

By the time she had joined their friends sitting back on the sofa, Aiden was completely asleep and drooling on her, snuggled between her firm arms. They didn't have to worry about waking him up – the only one capable of awakening him was himself.

“Why don't you put him in the crib, babe?” Ali suggested.

“I tried,” Ashlyn said. “Turns out he's a great emotional manipulator.” They laughed, and Ali stared lovingly. She never got tired of seeing Aiden cuddled into Ashlyn's embrace in the same way she loved to do. They were each other's best pals.

“So,” Tobin looked at Ali, sitting next to Ashlyn in front of her, hugging her legs, “what happens now, are you going to therapy? God knows that's traumatizing. Or you feel fine?”

“Well, I go from perfectly fine to sudden breakdowns, I guess,” Ali half smiled tiredly. “And I don't sleep well, and have medicines and all to try and stay with my head up, which so far is working. I have physiotherapy and psychotherapy pretty much every day since day one, so I'm taken-care of. And Ash's here, which helps.”

“I knew it had to be big for this one to drop the nationals, but didn't think it was this big,” Rapinoe admitted, sighing. “Son of a bitch. Did they judge him yet?”

“Next week,” said Ali. “I'll have to testify, but it's okay. Somehow I'm dying to look at him right in the eye and sink him in prison.”

Ashlyn stared at her deep in admiration. She thought Ali would be scared, dreading it, fearful, but she saw the tiger back in her eyes, and found herself amazed by her inner strength, that fought to come out despite everything.

  
  


 


	7. The tiger

As police had been investigating with Ali's collaboration, intensively, every day, big advances were made, and the biggest one was discovering Ray Smith wasn't alone. Police had long been wondering how a fifty-three year old man had had the stamina to continue doing what he had done for what they determined had been around sixteen hours of captivity. They hadn't found any drugs in the house to keep him going so long, but what had astonished them most was that when the DNA results came from the remains found inside of Ali, as well as in her nails, the blood in the street, or the house, all the DNA wasn't just Ali's and Ray's. Even though only their DNA was in the place where she was kidnapped, in Ali and in the flat there was genetic material of up to five different people more, people they had to find and identify, and about whom Ray wasn't giving any clues. He was, in fact, refusing to say a single thing to anyone.

The news were a shock to Ali and Ashlyn, who didn't think there had been six people abusing her, collaborating, and none of them doing anything to help her. Ali had identified Ray Smith at the police station by now, but even though she remembered everything, it was hard to actually discern her memories. Some were blurry or, as she put it, with 'bad sound', and then many other times she had just been staring at the ceiling, powerless, exhausted after sixteen hours of not eating, drinking or sleeping. Therefore, she hadn't seen everyone who used her. The psychotherapist defined it as numbing, when, after so many hours, starved, dehydrated and in a lot of pain for a very long time, her brain had sort of disconnected to try and regroup, making her less conscious of things, making time an ambiguous concept. Police's investigation managed to arrest two more people that, when looking at them, Ali was sure had been there, because they brought back the memories, or their voices did. Ali could also describe two more, that police was looking for, along with a last person. No one in the flat and buildings nearby had heard anything, partially because it was Monday at 11:30AM more or less, and Valentine's, so everyone was either at work, class, or with their love. That meant Ali was the only witness. No cameras, nothing.

By the time the trial came, the truth was known amongst Ali and Ashlyn's extended families, friends, agency, representatives, and everyone who mattered. In exchange, they received an unbelievable wave of support, actually, wave after wave for days. Press hadn't found out yet, but Ali knew she'd eventually tell it herself.

“I don't want to hide,” Ali said one night as she nursed Aiden while they were in bed. “I feel like, if people don't say these things publicly, even if I understand and share the feeling to avoid doing so, is like shutting up when someone hits you, and then they go and do it to someone else. The more people say these things happen, the more society will reject it, the more people will feel like it touches home, the more those nuters out there will know that they better not touch one more of us, because there will be consequences.”

“All right,” Ashlyn nodded in agreement, smiling at her. “We're in for this war, babe. Together.”

Despite Ali's conscious efforts to be a warrior and stay on her two feet, her subconsciousness was dying with anxiety, pressure, stress and anguish. Remembering almost every detail of her captivity, up to things she hadn't told anyone yet, her brain struggled and relived things daily, and the knowledge that it had been so many people who had contributed to her pain made her feel worse than she thought she could feel. She had even had some episodes of throwing up, but talking things in depth with her friends and family had helped some. On the other hand, she found out she had issues lying down on her back for a long time, unless she was asleep and didn't realize. Bed, particularly, started unexpectedly giving her PTSD.

“Would a different bed help?” Ashlyn inquired the night before the trial, when Ali had gotten out of bed for the fifth time, anxiously walking around.

“This is different. That bed had bars in the header, it was more uncomfortable, old, dirty, smelly... this one is super comfortable, wooden, great, a whole different story... It's just... being on my back, I guess. I don't know. I can't.”

“Come here,” Ashlyn guided her to lie face down on top of her, careful with her shoulder, but in a way that Ashlyn could wrap her arms around her and Ali could feel better. “Better?” It was like magic. Ali was so sleepy suddenly, and so calm, she could barely answer, so she just hummed. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

Ali knew she had been somewhat lucky. Usually these cases could go years. Hers would be resolved quickly because of her social position, the overwhelming amount of evidence, the police witnesses, and the fact that with six people participating, it was Orlando's biggest rape case ever. Besides, Ali was a big part of the city, and the city felt that it ought to give back.

That knowledge, however, didn't stop her from having a bad time, and she woke up brusquely hours later, crying and asphyxiating at once, which caused Ashlyn to awake and rush to her side, identifying a panic attack and, having had some herself in life, helping her breath, until she broke down crying in Ashlyn's arms. The goalkeeper was terrified, because this hadn't even started yet, and Ali's subconsciousness was going crazy. On top of things, Ali had insisted on testifying without hiding, without doing it in short-circuit. What for? She had reasoned. They knew who she was. They could find her easily no matter what, being an athlete. But she'll stare at them right in the eyes as she testified, to show them she was a tiger, to look at them as she ended them. And as much as Ashlyn knew Ali was consciously ready, she imagined inside her brain wouldn't take that act too well.

The morning of the trial, Ashlyn woke up first by herself, and saw Ali sleeping peacefully in her side of the bed, so she was very careful with not bugging her as she slid out of bed. Logan quickly trotted to her for petting and food. Once that was handled, she checked on their sleeping son, who was chilling out in her crib and would be taken-care-of by their all-time favourite nanny, that would come in an hour. The goalie caressed the little boy's darkening hair and cheeky, dimpled face, and let him sleep, going over to make his Mama some breakfast.

“Good morning,” Ali came over as she was cooking.

“Good morning,” kiss. “I was going to bring you breakfast to bed, did you manage some rest?”

“Yeah,” the brunette hugged her from behind. “Aiden's sleeping tight today, uh?”

“He's on the way to the eight month milestone, sleeping better, almost talking.”

“Almost talking?” Ali chuckled amused, filling two coffee mugs. “You mean when he does 'mohmmeer'?”

“You have to admit that's cute,” Ashlyn filled their plates and turned to get some morning snogging, wrapping Ali in her arms and possessing her mouth until Ali forgot her own name. They were interrupted by Aiden crying just as Ashlyn stood between Ali's legs as the older woman sat on top of the kitchen island. They hadn't had any intimacy since before the attack, and although they both knew Ali wasn't ready, kissing was still on the table. They separated and Ashlyn glared at the corridor that led to the bedrooms. “I swear he does it on purpose.”

Ali giggled, pecking her lips before jumping off the island.

“He's just reminding us our priorities.”

Ashlyn grinned seeing her rush to their son. Despite the bad moments, she had to be grateful about her little family, bringing so much joy into her life.

As the morning advanced, their nanny came over to look after Aiden, and their parents and brothers, plus Lizzy, Alex and Sydney, also arrived to support Ali at the trial. Any more people and it wouldn't be allowed into the courtroom. Ashlyn found herself a black suit, and Ali wore black as well, with jeans, a black jumper and a suit jacket. She hadn't worn skirts or dresses since the attack, because they made her feel too vulnerable.

“We're not leaving until you see a shark-tiger,” Ashlyn said putting Ali in front of their bathroom mirror. It was what Ashlyn did before each game, for the past few years.

“I don't see...” Ali gulped, anxious, and Ashlyn hugged her from behind, staring at her in the eyes through the mirror.

“You're not the criminal here. They won't be judging you. Your lawyer will be gentle with you, asking the right questions to make you believable and have the judge in your pocket, and the defence lawyer will be trying to bring you down and make your testimony look untrustworthy, and it will fail. At the end of the day, you're in the right, we've got a ton of evidence, there's no way they're getting out of this. So just go there and speak your heart. For your son.”

Ali clenched her teeth thinking about Aiden and what they could've done to her, and she saw what Ashlyn talked about. Something changed in her eyes, that filled with determination.

“I'm ready.”

They drove to court in different cars, and met with their lawyer, Ali's doctor, Ali's psychotherapist, and the police officers they now called friends, who had rescued Ali, at the courtroom. They stood chatting outside, as Ali got some last advice, and when it was time, they entered. Ashlyn sat with Ali, wrapping her two big goalkeeper hands around Ali's healthy left hand, and the men who had been arrested and accused of raping Ali were brought into the courtroom. Ashlyn looked up, feeling her stomach twitch. Smith was just a big guy, Ali had left him a broken nose, but it was healed now, although a bit twisted, but the other men were also big, a bit old, strong-looking, and with unfriendly expressions. Fearful of what she'd see, she looked at Ali and saw she had pressed her lips together and was glaring at them straight in the eye, with her own a little glassy. It wasn't like she wasn't scared, that'd be foolish, but it was the look of someone determined to crush them no matter the fear.

Trials were long and tiring. Ray Smith had been alone in the house fucking Ali when police had arrived, so he didn't try to lie and say he didn't do it. He tried to say he didn't attack her, that he found her in the street and took her into his flat, and he confessed to having raped her, hoping to avoid big sentences. The other two men who had been arrested hadn't been caught in the act, so he played the defensive, innocent role more, which was tiring to hear. They were saying Smith invited them over, Smith told them Ali was his girlfriend and liked BDSM, they didn't know it wasn't all acting but actually kidnapping someone, they were only there for a bit and thought it was all consensual, etc. Then there was a break and they had time for a coffee and disconnecting a little, before Ali had to be called as a witness and victim.

“Come on, eat a little,” Ashlyn coxed her during the break, pushing a plate with toast closer to her. “You'll feel better.”

“I'm not hungry. Do you think Aiden's okay?”

“Yes,” Ashlyn wrapped an arm around her, kissing her cheek, “you know he adores Maria, they're such a pair.”

Maria, their nanny, was also Cassius' nanny since he was born, and Sydney had recommended her. She was a bit older than them, a sweetie, and had up to an eighth sense when it came to children. She had also become family in little time, and was there for them anytime they needed anything, just like they were there for her. She was of their maximum trust, so Ashlyn was always calm to leave her with their son.

When they returned to the courtroom and before Ali had to declare, her doctor and psychotherapist were called to answer some questions.

“Doctor Robbins, can you explain to this courtroom in which state did you find Alexandra Krieger-Harris when she was first brought in?” Ali's lawyer asked. “In the best language for us without medical knowledge to understand, if possible.” She added with a smile.

“Sure. Well, the patient was in a lot of pain, for what she had been sedated, and she was starting to come off the drugs the rapist had given her, so she was regaining mobility. She was conscious, panicking, breathing hard, had some internal bleeding in her vagina and rectum due to the sexual abuse,” the doctor explained. “She was covered in bruises, cuts, her left shoulder had dislocated, her wrists were full of lacerations and abrasions as it often happens when you tie someone from the wrists with a rope, as police said it had happened. Her breasts were lacerated and bruised, she had a fractured rib, her face was swollen and covered in dry blood, because she had a huge bruise in her forehead with some glass cuts, there were still fractions of glass inside that we had to clean, and her lip had a cut and was bleeding, her left cheekbone was fractured and thus provoked a big swelling... right wrist was fractured, swollen and bruised, her knuckles were bruised... typical injuries from being beaten-up and trying to protect herself.”

“What did you think had happened, just judging by the injuries?”

“Police had only told me she had been attacked, so I had no details and I could only judge by what was in front of my eyes. I saw someone who had very obviously been sexually assaulted for a long time, someone who was dehydrated and starved, which told me she had probably been held captive for a long time, someone with clear signs of exhaustion, someone who had been fighting, and someone who had been hit by someone or something with extreme force. She couldn't have self-inflicted all those wounds. Her wrists looked just like those of other patients who were tied-up and tried to let themselves free, which supported the theory of kidnapping, and thus I realized she had dislocated her shoulder as she struggled to set herself free, because I had seen the same case before when I was a doctor in the army. There are many ways in which a shoulder can dislocate, but the scans can give plenty of information about how it happened, so it was clear to me.”

“Did she tell you what happened?”

“No,” the doctor sighed. “I took her into the OR right away, and until she was put under general anaesthesia, she just cried and weakly asked for help. She kept looking at me and begging me to help her, it was actually tough to witness,” Ashlyn bit her lip and squeezed Ali's hand, feeling her own eyes filling with tears. “Immediately after the surgery I went to the police and told them my patient had been raped and hit and asked whether it was a domestic violence kind of thing. And they told me everything, so I could tell them the injuries I had seen matched what they told me, and I asked them to please get any family immediately because I knew Mrs Krieger-Harris would wake-up from anaesthesia and not be okay.”

“One of the injuries was a concussion. Because the jury may think that with a concussion the witness may not be reliable, can you explain us your professional opinion on the matter?”

“Well, the concussion was in a decent state. It had happened sixteen hours previously, so the brain swelling had gone down, and the moment we took the glass off the wound and cleaned it, the external swelling went down pretty quickly as well. I had a neurosurgeon examine her to determine whether there was anything in her brain that required further assessment and he took scans and saw that it was all good, nothing more than a headache for some days. There are several reasons why it wasn't a bigger deal and why I don't think it affects her credibility. She remembered everything immediately after waking up, because she told everything to the police, the psychotherapist and myself with plenty of detail afterwards, she wasn't confused, her head had collided against a window with force, but it was glass, not a rock, and she has concussion prevention training as a footballer, so these injuries don't get too off hand. Also, there's the fact that she had seemingly been lying down the entire day as she was abused, which somehow helped her head. So as far as I'm concerned, she's reliable.”

The defence attorney had no questions for the doctor, so next, her psychotherapist was called to the stand.

“Doctor Matthews, what's your professional opinion of Mrs Krieger-Harris, in terms of giving her credibility before she testifies today? What would be your assessment after all this time caring for her?”

“When I first attended her, her wife hadn't even been called to the hospital yet, and she was just coming out of anaesthesia, but it was for a general assessment and nothing else,” said Olive. “I quickly realized she was in mental shock and we could only wait until she came to her senses completely, which happened when her wife came over. I've seen her cry plenty of times, understandably, but I realized from the first time she could actually talk to me, which was shortly before being discharged, that she had the events very clear in her head. She had small memory gaps such as the moment right after getting concussed, and the sixteen hours in captivity weren't remembered with the same level of detail, as the brain's defence mechanism provokes a process of dissociation, which means your level of awareness about your surroundings reduces a little, but overall, it was impressive how well she remembered things. From the start she described me some details, voices, faces, things she dreamed, and at first it was like having these pieces of a puzzle you have to put together, but I saw her every day, and every day we managed to put more and more together and get a better understanding of the assault. Mrs Krieger-Harris wasn't confused or full of amnesia, she just had to accept and comprehend what had occurred, and we managed a lot of that in this time. Therefore, I believe she's honest and reliable, because psychologically, it's easy to spot a liar or someone who doesn't remember something and is just trying to invent ways to reason things. She knew what had happened perfectly well, just needed for me to give it a meaning and a sense, and this is very typical with victims of assault and sexual assault.”

“A lot of us would assume that someone who goes through intense trauma is always amnesic, how can you explain this is not the case?” Ali's lawyer asked.

“The assumption that amnesia happens easily has become common due to films and books, but actually, dissociative amnesia, which is the one that comes after a psychological trauma, is extremely, extremely uncommon, and even more rare it is for it to be complete,” the psychotherapist answered. “So actually, for me, it's not odd for Ali to remember things. I've got many patients who have child trauma going forty years back and they remember things in detail, that's more normal than amnesia. It also helps that she got attention so fast, since I was there from the start and could help her manage her mind since minute one.”

The defence attorney tried to discredit Ali next, with some questions that fell on deaf ears, being quite absurd, and then Ali was finally called to testify.

“You'll be fine,” Ashlyn encouraged her as she got up.

Ali swore to be honest and sat on the witness seat, grabbing her bottle of water for dear life and giving it a sip as she listened to her lawyer ask her whether she remembered any of the men that had been arrested clearly, and what did she remember of them. The defender nodded.

“I remember Smith clearly, he was wearing a police uniform and I remember him calling me over in the street by my car and then grabbing me fast from the hair and then intense pain on the head. And when I woke up, I was over his shoulder,” Ali answered. “I remember clearly fighting with him, breaking his nose, having my cheek fractured by him and being hit by him. He was the one who tied me up and who drugged me up to four times, I remember,” her voice got hoarse, but she pulled through. “He was also the one who ripped off my clothes and first... penetrated me and uh...” she cleared her throat. “I remember him manipulating the syringes with the drug and injecting them in me. I remember him beating me up, insulting me, pinching me, pulling hard from my uhm... nipples,” Ashlyn sighed, closing her eyes for a second as every sentence felt like punches in the gut. “He bit me, and spoke dirty to me, sexually, and I remember him calling other people to come. And I remember these two other men as well. I didn't at first but when police showed me their faces I had instant flashbacks of them... raping me and trying to get me to suck them off, which I couldn't do because of the drugs, slapping me... sometimes they'd use me at once, the three of them and...” she took a sip of water and a deep breath, rubbing a tear off her eye. “I remember a woman and a man as well, the police is looking for them, and I feel there was a sixth person I'm yet to remember more clearly.”

“Do you remember any of these men at any point trying to defend you, help you, ask if this was consensual?”

“I remember they didn't. When they came, they asked if I was a whore or what, and Smith told them that no, that he thought I was a football player or something, that he had been watching me in the area for a bit,” Ali paused for a moment, to make sure to keep herself together. “He said he always thought I was fuckable, in his words, so he had kidnapped me, which he admitted of doing. The others thought it was cool and actually congratulated him and acted in agreement with his encouragement to use me and, in Smith's words, do whatever they wanted to me. At one point... he,” she pointed at one of the other two men, “was raping me when... he realized who I was and told the others I was married to a woman. I wasn't wearing my rings in the moment because when I go to the gym I leave them home to make sure I don't lose them, so it was just that he had seen something online or something. The others laughed, and this guy got smug and started shouting at me that...” her eyes filled with tears and she had to look away, her voice hoarse. “Shouting that I was going to thank them when they were done with me for, in their words, healing me from my depraved, anti-Christianity behaviour,” Ashlyn pressed her teeth together. Ali had never told her as much, and now she felt rage raising in her. “They kept saying,” Ali said taking a deep breath, “all of them at different moments, including those who haven't been arrested yet... that I just had to get a proper dick to be normal again, and things like that. Criticizing my sexuality and making themselves sound like bloody heroes. And saying they should do it to my wife and son as well.”

“They actually threatened your family?” the lawyer asked.

“Oh, yes,” Ali let a long sigh out, patting her eyes with a tissue softly. “They made denigrating comments about my wife and son, and said horrible things about what they'd do to them. I can't... I can't bring myself to quote but... it was pretty much... they wanted to do to them what they were doing to me. They got me scared because Smith said he had seen me with my son and knew I took him somewhere in the area, and was saying he should go to see if he found him. He actually went back to my car and came back saying my son wasn't there, and the others pouted about it. Sadistic.”

“Calm down,” Kyle, with his voice hoarse, whispered to Ashlyn's ear, sitting behind her and seeing how hard she was gripping her knees. “Breathe.”

Ali let a sob out then and she was given a few minutes to compose herself before she could continue, but when she did, she glared straight into her attackers' eyes.

“Mrs Krieger-Harris, can you tell us exactly what happened that day? Walk me through the day, take the time you need,” her lawyer asked at last.

“Yeah,” Ali said weakly, clutching her tissue in one hand and bottle in the other. “It was Valentine's, but my wife had quite a difficult day, she was going to be incredibly busy and we'd meet in the evening and cook something nice for dinner, celebrate ourselves. We had very romantic stuff planned, and family time with our boy. Usually, we'd work together, but I was still getting my body in shape to go back to work, so I wasn't working yet, but was doing a lot of gym and stuff, and that had been our routine since our boy was born in the summer. I didn't mind doing more house chores and things. So we just fell into our typical routine. Ashlyn would go to work, then I'd get myself ready, get Aiden to daycare about a couple blocks from Smith's flat, and because it was Monday morning parking was hell and I parked in Smith's street, which isn't my usual spot. Then I took my son, left him in daycare, and walked a few blocks to the gym, not far actually, to continue my usual training routine. I'd often train from nine to eleven or twelve, then pick Aiden up, do any other errands that were needed and go home for lunch, or maybe outside if the day was good. On this particular day, I wanted to leave the gym at eleven and get Aiden quickly, because I had to buy everything for dinner, and also do some other errands. I went back to the car first, that was on the way to daycare, to leave the gym bag, because I was tired and it was heavy and I like to carry my son instead of using the carriage, so I wanted to be more comfortable. So anyway... I open the trunk of my car, leave the bag inside, and then see Smith walking to me dressed as a cop, and he calls me, so of course I shut the trunk close and go thinking I had parked in an illegal spot or something. Without saying another word, he grabbed me and crashed me against the car.”

She went on for half an hour, interrupting herself at times when she lost it a little, and glaring at the criminals every time she could. Ashlyn felt the half an hour like physical torture, and as she looked around, she saw the jury was having a hard time as well, and so was the judge, but she avoided looking at their friends and family. Next came the cross-examination, where the defence attorney spent twenty minutes trying to discredit Ali. _How can you remember...? Are you sure...? You didn't really say you didn't want it, did you?_ Ashlyn hated every moment of it, but Ali pulled herself together and answered like an aggressive but polite lawyer, making herself clear. Then, Ali returned and Ashlyn stood up and hugged her with tears in her eyes, and perhaps a little harder than she should.

“I'm fine,” Ali kissed her cheek. “It's okay.”

Afterwards, Ali's lawyer called Ashlyn to give what she had called in their meetings, a 'checkmate'.

“Mrs Krieger-Harris,” the lawyer said, “we've heard all that happened, but I think it'd be good for you to tell this jury who your wife was and who she is now, so they can understand the full extend of the attack. If the judge thinks it's appropriate, of course.”

“Proceed,” the judge nodded, having paled with Ali's statement.

“Okay,” Ashlyn took a deep breath. “So, I've known Ali for the past... twelve years, since we were only in our twenties. When we met, she was a fierce independent woman living on her own in Frankfurt, working, learning German... she literally was only twenty-three when she first left everything and went there, that's the tiger she's always been, at least for twelve years. And now...” she shrugged, shaking her head. “She's insecure, afraid, a ball of anxiety and worry. She's in the kind of pain none of us can do much about, and she's going to be looking over her shoulder her whole life. But I have hope that if the people that hurt her so badly end in prison, it'll bring her some peace. It's all I want.”

  
  


 


	8. Inner shark

**Chapter 8: Inner shark.**

They had to wait a few days while the jury reached a verdict, and in the meantime, police figured out the identities of the three other attackers who were on the run and gave the couple a full description so they could be cautious and watch their backs, although police protection was put on their doorstep anyway.

“Relax,” Ashlyn insisted one night as they went to bed and Ali insisted on keeping Aiden with them. “We have a security alarm and everything. We'll be okay. You sleep now, you need it.”

Ali wasn't so sure, but she nodded, snuggling the best she could against their son, while Ashlyn wrapped a protective arm around her family. Logan was, for them to feel she was safe all night, locked in their room with them, with her food and water bowls next to the bed while the dog occupied the feet of the bed.

Hours later, they were all asleep when the house alarm suddenly went off, waking them both up. Ashlyn had only heard it previously once when she got it installed and tried it out, while Ali had never heard it, but they both knew what it meant. Aiden started crying and Logan jumped off the bed, barking.

“Logan! Shut up,” Ashlyn said jumping off the bed and making sure the door was locked, grabbing the dog as she tried to hear over the alarm. “Someone's home.”

“What?” Ali was standing in her pyjamas trying to calm Aiden down and panicking herself, but Ashlyn looked stoic.

“Alex, love,” Ashlyn went to her, cupping her face with one hand. “Look at me. Breathe. We're okay. You're going to get in the attic, with our kids, and lock yourself in there until community security and police arrive, okay?”

“What about you?”

“I have a plan.”

Ashlyn dug into the closet and pulled out a small box, and from there, a pistol she made sure it was charged. Ali's eyes widened.

“How long... What...?”

“Safety first, explanations later,” said Ashlyn, manipulating the pistol with expertise. When she was a troubled teenager, her uncle had often taken her to the shooting range to let some anger out, and she knew what she was doing.

Ali held Aiden with her right arm, and Ashlyn opened the attic trap door in the ceiling, leading to the small storage space over their bedroom. She pulled Logan up and Ali and Aiden climbed up with Ashlyn's help, using the ladder that came down when opening the door.

“Come with us,” Ali begged Ashlyn.

“I'll be there in a moment,” Ashlyn hurried to give her their phones. “Call the police. And try to keep our kids in silence and be quiet, okay? I'll see you in a moment, I love you.”

Right as Ashlyn was about to open the bedroom door and get out, gun out, she heard steps in the corridor.

“Ali!” came a female's voice, singing her name. “Come out and play!”

“The baby's not in the nursery, and where's the dog?” a male's voice came.

“Shh!” another voice shushed them. Upstairs in the attic, Ashlyn knew Ali had managed to shut their kids up, probably sticking her nipple in Aiden's mouth and keeping a hand on Logan's jaws. Her heart was drumming hard in her chest, but as anger took over, she was filled with adrenaline and courage.

She opened the bedroom door slowly, making sure not to make a noise. She was fairly sure the intruders were around the corridor corner, because they didn't sound so close. She pecked outside and saw it was clear, so she walked outside, slowly. Ashlyn was barefoot and in pyjamas, so she could hardly make a noise, although her heart felt too loud. She had put the silencer on her pistol, and planned to be a silent assassin of sorts. She wasn't going to let anyone get to her family.

Ashlyn heard steps and walked into the bathroom, hiding without closing the door, that had been left open. If they got to their bedroom, they'd hear Logan's steps, so she had to make sure to keep them away from Ali and the kids. She grabbed a couple rolls of toilet paper and, right as she heard the trio turn the corner, she threw them blindly. One shot was heard, and in the commotion and confusion, Ashlyn turned the corner at fast speed and shot twice, hearing shots around her and running into Aiden's nursery across the corridor.

“Fuck! Fuck!” she heard a male's voice say. “Shit!” Ashlyn frowned. She couldn't hear the other two, but then she heard the third running away and she came out into the corridor, surprised to find a woman and a man dead on a pool of blood on the floor. She had somehow managed to kill them, then.

The goalie made sure they were dead and gulped, gripping her gun harder.

“Forgive me, God,” she murmured. She had never killed anyone, and it was an unpleasant feeling, but full of adrenaline, didn't know what else to do but to keep going.

She walked into the living room and heard a crack. She had just the right time to throw herself to the floor before a tommy gun drilled her. Instead, the bullets went on the wall, and Ashlyn almost threw her heart up. In what damned moment had she decided an open plan house was a good idea? She could only hide behind the kitchen island, squatting on the floor.

“Where are you?! Come out if you've got what it takes!” a male's voice shouted, filled with fear.

The house was pitch black, but Ashlyn knew it well. She extended a hand to grab a grapefruit from the fruit container they always kept on the kitchen island, and threw it to where the voice was coming from. Immediately, the bullets of the tommy gun went in her direction, and she took advantage to quickly run around the kitchen counter bending herself. A bullet burnt the right side of her torso, and she gritted her teeth.

As Ashlyn ran, she fired some blind shots and then managed to slide outside the house, using the glass door that the shooting had broken and running into the garden, squatting on the floor and pressing a hand against her side, while the alarm was about to leave her deaf.

“Fuck,” Ashlyn groaned in pain, looking at her blood-stained hand. She lifted her shirt up to make sure it was just a grace, and stayed squatted behind the outside sofa. With hands shaking from adrenaline, she went back to grabbing the gun, and realized one of the bullets had gotten to it and had fractured the gun. “Shit!”

“Marco!” the man had gone outside and was playing with her. She peeked just enough to see he was blindly pointing the tommy gun towards the trees, thinking she hid behind them, and then he shot towards them, until suddenly his tommy got stuck and abruptly stopped working. “What the...?”

Ashlyn didn't lose her chance, and jumped goalie style on the man, throwing him to the hard floor Ashlyn had had built in the sofa area, and punching him hard on the face twice, while the tommy fell into the pool. But it was a big man, and as they wrestled on the floor, he managed to get on top and grab her neck, strangling her. She felt her lungs burn out of air, felt blood tripping from a cut over her elbow that one of the many rings the man wore had done, and saw the purple eye she had given him. She tried to get rid of him in vain, and then suddenly Logan jumped on him, making him scream as she bit hard into his side.

“Logan!” Ashlyn croaked as she recovered her breath and sat up, watching the dog wrestling with the man.

“Ashlyn!” the goalkeeper turned and saw Ali inside the house, pushing Ashlyn's skateboard so in a second it had rolled to Ashlyn over the smooth outside floor. Ashlyn smiled and grabbed the skateboard, turning and slamming it hard against the attacker's back of the head as he managed to stand up, with Logan attacking his legs.

The man stumbled and fell on his knees, and Ashlyn kicked him hard on the liver, using her footballer skills, making him collapse with a thud and a groan.

“Step away, Logan!” Ashlyn pulled the growling dog away and thinking she had killed the man, knelt and turned him around, staring at him. He looked unconscious, but suddenly his eyes opened and with a war grow, he seemed to attempt to punch her, but Ashlyn realized he hadn't punched her; he had cut her cheek with a pocketknife, in an attempt of slicing her throat. She punched him on the hand so the knife flew away, and possessed by anger, grabbed him from the throat so hard her knuckles went white.

And then, the man stopped moving, his blue-grey eyes empty, staring at the sky.

**. . .**

This time, press found out and published the first headlines before the sun came up. In the morning, Ashlyn and Ali, who had slept in Alex's house, came back home to see the extent of the damage. Police had arrived into the house at the same time Ashlyn strangled the last of the attackers to death, and once the doctors stitched her face, the cut over her left eyebrow, and patched her side injury up, she had to answer to two hours of interrogation from the police, before being let free without charges. The pistol had been given to her by her uncle a day after the Smith trial, as a temporal safety solution. Ashlyn had never wanted guns home and her opinion hadn't changed, but after police told them three were still out, she decided to keep it hidden in the closet, just to make sure if they came she was prepared.

Now, Aiden and Logan were with Ashlyn's parents in the park, and the bodies of the policeman who had watched over the house, and the three attackers Ashlyn had killed had been picked up. The house was cordoned-off and full of police, but once evidence had been taken away and photographs were taken, the glass door was being replaced, the front door would be replaced in a matter of weeks, and the floor, walls and damaged furniture would be repaired as soon as possible. That same day they woke up with one good new: the other three attackers who had been judged had been declared guilty and sent to a lifetime of imprisonment.

“We're going to have to paint again,” Ali commented, examining a bullet hole in the wall.

“Don't you want to move out?” Ashlyn had been expecting Ali to want to leave the neighbourhood, if not the city.

“No,” Ali answered, smiling softly at her, “it's all over now, isn't it? And although it will take us a bit to leave this behind... This feels like our castle. We defended it, you almost died for it... and when I look at all the damage, I only think that last night, we won, and these are the battle scars. And they should be a reminder of our courage, mostly yours,” she proudly put an arm around her, kissing her bruised side of the lip. “This is the house where we survived. If that doesn't call for it to be our lucky place, I don't know what does.”

Ashlyn grinned, putting her bruised hands on her lips and pressing her lips against her forehead.

“Thanks for coming to the rescue when I needed you the most,” Ashlyn murmured.

“I just managed to get the panic under control for you, so,” Ali shrugged with her healthy shoulder. “Thank yourself. You're my superhero. My shark.”

Ashlyn let a long sigh out.

“Is it okay if I feel terrible for having killed three people?”

“It'd be weird if you didn't,” Ali held her close, closing her eyes. “Let's go on vacation. Let's bug Kyle and Peter in New York.”

“Sure?” Ashlyn was surprised she wanted to get out, but Ali smiled warmly and nodded.

“Let's go.”

**. . .**

New York City provided exactly the break they needed, up in Kyle and Peter's safe flat while the whole rape story blew up in the TV and the newspapers. The journalists uncovered the whole story, from the attack on Ali, to how three of her rapists had gone after them at their house and Ashlyn had defended the fort and killed them on self-defence. Their phones wouldn't stop ringing, but they ignored most of it, going on family hang-outs at the beach and taking tons of photographs. Ashlyn wasn't sleeping well, while Ali seemed to be feeling calmer and safer than ever, but they had each other. She even went back to social media, posting a photograph of Ashlyn and Aiden together on the sofa watching TV, her facial scars still looking angry and obvious, and captioned it: ' _At the end of the day, I can only be grateful for the fiercest white shark out there. A woman capable of putting aside her own morals, convictions and ethics, going as far as to do things she swore to never do, just because it was the only way of keeping her family safe. Thank you <3 #WarScars #Badass_'.

They stayed in New York City for the rest of March, but training hard because Ashlyn had camp on April and, as she told Pia Sundhage on the phone, this wasn't going to keep her out of it. She needed to get back into her life. She was also back at playing for Orlando Pride, at least home for now, and when the first game post-attack came, the stadium was filled with support, and even though Ashlyn's face still hurt, she felt much better as she watched the many posters held with supporting messages to her and Ali.

After the game, she signed plenty of autographs and as she did so, the fans keep saying 'We love you, and tell Ali and Aiden we love them too!'. So she felt more and more grateful. When she arrived home, she was surprised to hear Olly Murs' 'Up' blasting and see Ali dancing around with Aiden in her arm.

“You gotta hold on, hold on to what you're feeling, that feeling is the best thing, the best thing all right... I'm gonna place my bet on us! I know this love is heading in the same direction... that's up...” Ali turned around and saw Ashlyn grinning as she stared at them. Ali grinned and moved her hips with the music, motioning for her to come. Ashlyn came closer, taking Aiden on one arm and swirling Ali with her free hand as they danced around. “I'm gonna place my bet on us... I know this love is heading in the same direction, that's up...”

“How are you in such good mood?” Ashlyn asked when the song ended, as her lips kissed down Ali's neck.

“Why not?” Ali put her arms around her, leaning against her. “We're alive, we're safe, we're fierce, we're strong. It's all good.”

“I killed three men, Ali. With my own hands in the last case,” said the goalkeeper, looking down at her. “I saw life leave his eyes. I heard him gasping for air, I felt his hands desperately trying to get mine off, I felt his pulse vanishing against my hands. I'm... some monster.”

“A monster?” Ali separated, looking surprised. “Have you ever seen, in the history of nature, one living being not kill for family?” Ashlyn shook her head. “No. Sharks kill. Tigers kill. What's truly scary about killing is that it can mean you're a monster, if the reasons aren't right, but yours were. And the difference between a murderer and you is that a murderer doesn't feel bad, you do. But you shouldn't also think less of you, because you were only keeping us safe. You saved us. A monster isn't know for saving people, isn't it?”

Ashlyn shrugged.

“Unless it's in Monsters Inc...” Ali chuckled, ghosting over her lips before kissing her softly.

“Let's go eat with our hands and watch Monsters Inc., then. Blue always fit you well.”

  
  


 


	9. Epilogue

**Chapter 9: Epilogue:**

It was the first day of 2029, and Ashlyn woke up with a grin as Ali kissed her softly, her fingers sliding into Ashlyn's trousers and caressing over her lower lips, eliciting a moan.

“I know you're awake,” Ali grinned as Ashlyn opened her eyes and kissed her hard, rolling them over. At 44 and 43, they sexual life was still intense and passionate, and they were still romantic lovebirds. Things heated quickly between them and old Logan could only stretch her paws and contemplate them tiredly, hoping her intense stare would make them realize it was feeding time.

Ashlyn was back to long hair at her age, and had the lower half dyed silver with a fade transition. She had pulled on a few pounds after retiring from soccer three years previously, following Ali's steps, as the defender had retired five years before, after a brief post-rape comeback, only to ultimately decide it was time and she wanted to grow their family. So after Aiden, they adopted Keira, an African three-months-old girl born late in 2022 and welcomed into the house early in 2023, and then Ashlyn had temporally stepped away from football and became pregnant with twins Finley and Robin, who arrived early in 2025. That year Ashlyn managed a quick comeback to soccer and was there for Ali's final game along their two girls and two boys making a little team.

For a while, they really thought that'd be it, that their family was complete. But after having Aiden, Keira, Finley and Robin, they were called from the same adoption organization that had given them Keira to meet twins Ilsa and Nicholas, who had been born in Florida late in 2025 out of a Swedish mother who had emigrated and died of addiction. The children suffered from some health issues related to their mother's drug consumption during pregnancy, and were little addicts, so no one wanted them, and hence they had been called, as the organization knew Ashlyn understood addiction. The couple was first foster parents for a few months, but grew so in love with them and so increasingly anxious about the possibility of someone taking them away, that they adopted them during the summer. And with that, they decided they definitely had enough children, that was until Keira found a French bulldog abandoned in the street and, with it being Ashlyn's dream, Ali had to give in and accept their house was just full. They called the dog Lucky just because of how bloody lucky she had been of arriving right when no one else fit in their house.

With a family of ten, the house was always full of noise, which sometimes they loved and other times they hated. They needed big constructions and added a smaller second storey, putting four bedrooms for their oldest children (Aiden Kyle, who would turn eight in the summer, Keira Blaire seven and twins Finley Christopher and Robin Tammye, who were turning four later this month), two bathrooms, two guest bedrooms, and a play area upstairs, and keeping the master bedroom, the dog room, the studio, a few bathrooms, and Ilsa Debra and Nicholas James' bedrooms downstairs. They had to get out of the house six months until the express constructions ended, but the kids enjoyed the novelty of a rented house in the countryside.

Ashlyn was just about to find her orgasm when there was a loud noise upstairs, crying, and then Aiden shouting 'MUUUUMS!!!'.

“Fuck no,” Ashlyn groaned, as Ali stepped away and hurried to not look like she was getting laid. “Perhaps we should let them cry.”

“That's your orgasm induced brain,” Ali chuckled. “Come on, Shark mama! Let's go Logan baby.”

Logan was joined by little Lucky outside the bedroom and they followed Ali upstairs, the smaller dog needing to be picked up. Ashlyn cleaned herself and checked their just-turned-three twins, who were just getting up hearing the noise upstairs.

“What's going on, Mummy?” Ilsa asked, her short blonde hair a mess and her green eyes looking at Ashlyn with confusion and tiredness.

“Your siblings making a mess, for a change,” Ashlyn smiled pulling her into her arms and kissing the top of her head. “Did you sleep good, Sunshine?” the girl nodded, closing her eyes against her shoulder, and Ashlyn ruffled Nick's blonde hair with a smile on her face. He was as identical to Ilsa as he could be without changing gender, which was funny, because the twins Ashlyn had birthed, using IVF and Ali's eggs, were a mixture of Ali and Kyle, yet were very noticeably different between each other. “How about you, Champ?”

“Mummy, me sleep...” Nick yawned big.

“Okay honey, you can sleep a couple hours more,” it was still very early, and Ashlyn knew.

Right now all their twins shared room with their twin siblings, but all of them had bedrooms into which separate when they grew a little older. For now, Ali and Ashlyn tried to preserve their twin bonds. Ilsa and Nick, perhaps due to their past as babies, were inseparable, while Finley and Robin were independent souls, like Ali. And miraculously, the six siblings usually got very along and were close, as they were close in age as well, but were still six strong, different personalities and sometimes they screamed at each other. Ashlyn was just grateful that even though their children had no idea why one of them was black, two looked almost Russian, two looked very Krieger, and one was mini Grandpa Mike, they loved each other, were overprotective of each other to the exterior, and never saw their differences as something odd.

As Ashlyn started preparing breakfast with her little helper Ilsa, all her tattoos were hidden in her long-sleeved pyjamas and under her housecoat, because it was a bit chilly, even though they had the floor heated and Ali had turned on the central heating as well. Ashlyn was now fully tattooed and had stopped getting tattoos. The only areas non-tattooed were her neck, head and private parts, along with her breasts and part of her abdomen. She had two arm sleeves, two leg sleeves, her wedding band tattooed under her wedding ring, a star for each child and dog forming a bracelet in her right wrist, her children's initials A~K~F~R~I~N forming a bracelet in her left ankle, her back entirely tattooed, and some small ankle tattoos.

“Mummy I like your art,” said Ilsa lifting up Ashlyn's trouser and caressing her tattoos.

The fascination with them was something all of her children had in common. Ali had only gotten a few more tattoos in life, and had too decided not to get more. She got one paw of each of their dogs tattooed on the lower outside part of each leg, the AKFRIN initials on her right wrist forming a bracelet with small hearts in between, 11 tattooed small on one side of her groin next to her Nittany Lions tattoo, 24 in the other, and a big family tree on her right upper arm, representing their strong family roots and connections.

“Thank you, Love,” Ashlyn smiled at her. Nick decided to join them and helped in the kitchen as well, aiding to set the table.

Right then, the two dogs came running for the food Ilsa had served them, and they heard four children talking at once while Ali came with them, carrying Keira in one strong arm and Finley up in the other, both with tear-stained faces, while Aiden and Robin trotted behind. Ali still wore her signature dark bun, her hair still long and her beauty just as on point, although age was starting to leave lines here and there, like with Ashlyn, and a few extra pounds. They still found each other gorgeous.

“For the last time,” Ali cut their children with a severe tone. You couldn't mother six kids without being severe at times, “taking toys from your siblings when they're using them is plain wrong. No excuses. Now help set the table.” Aiden and Robin muttered apologizes and ran to help set the table. Ashlyn smiled kissing her wife and the upset kids.

“Oh, it happened again?” Ashlyn grabbed Keira to relax the weight on Ali's arms.

“Aiden took my car,” Keira pouted, leaning against Ashlyn's shoulder.

“They have like two billion toys,” Ali commented, caressing Finley's black hair, “but they have to go for the same ones every single time.”

“Well maybe we have to remind these cubs that Uncle Kyle and Uncle Peter are coming with your cousins in the weekend and we're all going to Disneyland, so it'd be sad if we had to leave some bad kids behind because they don't know how to be nice.”

“Nonono!” Robin shouted. “Mummy I be nice!”

“All right,” Ashlyn chuckled as they all sat around the table with the food, Ali and Ashlyn filling plates.

“Who wants some pool time after breakfast?” Ali asked.

As all the children screamed in excitement, the ex-defender, now model, women's soccer commenter, and coach of the current Orlando Pride's team, giggled and looked at Ashlyn, who beamed lovingly at her. They had filled the house with new memories, photographs and drawings, and they were as happy as they could be, making sure each Valentine, each birthday, and each festivity was unique and perfect, and the love was palpable in the house.

“Can I help you with designs?” Aiden asked Ashlyn, looking so much like a more masculine version of Ashlyn.

She was now a clothes designer, half-artist in her free time, and like Ali, had her own soccer camps. She had also written a book called '2022' about struggle and overcoming obstacles in relation to that terrible light, and another one, both best-sellers, called 'What my B & W family teaches about feminism, equality, love, respect and team-work', in which she reflected on the wonders of raising six children and two dogs, while having multiple jobs, and being a devoted wife, and she also discussed fashion, family, values, struggle, drugs, soccer, and how her family (with 'immigrants', black, white, and two gay women) was the pure example of how nice society could be when everyone accepted and loved each others with their differences.

“Sure thing my man.”

“Mama, Mama, me sausages!”

“Okay babe, one sec, Ash, could you please...?”

Ashlyn looked at her chaotic family and openly laughed, confusing them. It was a bit heavy sometimes, overwhelming at times, but above it all, it was just so much love, and so much light, all the time.

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and your support, and I hope you enjoy the final chapters. I'm in the midst of moving to London and, since I'm quite busy, I'm trying to give you tons of content in the few moments I have, to compensate the more than likely long absence when I arrive there ;)


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